The Night Of The Omen
by Wendy Vermonter
Summary: James and Artemus return to Washington D.C. from their voyage at sea to find a mystery at Headquarters. Colonel Richmond is missing many agents; one from each pair of partners has disappeared! Will Jim or Artie be next before they can solve the mystery? And does an escaped Federal prisoner, Voltaire, have anything to do with the missing men?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1. Vacation Time

Jim sat behind the dining room table, sipping a cup of coffee, and squinting at the script on yet another envelope. The print was partially faded and smeared so he tipped the paper toward the windows along the wall and let the bright morning sunlight cast shadows on the letters. Sighing, he showed it to the kitten who sat near his elbow on the tablecloth.

"Sophie," he said, seriously, "can you read this? Is that to 'James' or 'Artemus'? It's not like our names are spelled the same." The kitten leaned forward and licked the paper. "Really? Does tasting it help?" He snickered and tossed the envelope onto a pile in front of him. "One more for "to both of you", I guess."

"James, my boy," Artemus said from down the hall, his deep voice rolling past the swinging doors, "we deserve more than a week of vacation after what we've been through. We deserve a month!"

"You wouldn't say that," Jim responded, "if that young lady wasn't accompanying you to New York City. If she had said no, you wouldn't even go visit your family." He picked up another envelope from the crate sitting on a nearby chair.

"That's a terrible thing to say," Artie laughed as he pushed through the doors, "but true, I admit." He dropped a carpet bag and a large, black, hard-sided case onto the floor in front of the fireplace. He walked over to the dining room table to look at the piles of envelopes. "Besides you'll be a week sorting mail." He picked up one pile and quickly scanned though the writing. "Hmph, all from my mother? I guess I could read them while I ride in the carriage." He dropped them back on the table, "or I can just enjoy being with Christian and let my mother recite everything when I arrive."

Jim tsked his tongue as he shook his head, "Sophie, can you believe this guy? He won't read letters written from his own mother!" Sophie meowed her displeasure and flicked her tail. "That's it, partner, Sophie agrees with me. You're heartless."

"Sophie always agrees with you," Artie said, patting the kitten's soft fur. "You two gang up on me, unless I'm cooking, of course." Sophie purred, pushing her face against his palm. "Are you bringing her with you?"

"No," Jim grinned, "I am not riding around the country side with a cat. It's just not my style." He handed Artie an envelope, "another one." Artie took the envelope and dropped it onto the others. "I'll just pile them up for you." Jim said, nodding to the other piles, "yours, mine, and that pile I can't read. We can open them when we get back. Hopefully it's nothing important."

"Nothing is as important as picking up Christian and taking her to New York." Artie pulled out a pocket watch and checked the time, muttering, "can you believe that she has never been to New York City?" Jim paused to roll his eyes. Artie caught the look and grinned, "I guess I have mentioned that a few times?" Jim groaned. "Ok, I'm leaving." He snapped the watch shut and tucked it back into his vest pocket. "You are going somewhere yourself, right? Not spending your week's vacation doing all this?" He waved a hand at the envelopes.

"Yes," Jim grinned, "I'm going soon. I wanted to sort through all these first. I found one for Jeremy that somehow fell in our box. So I'm worried I might find another one that isn't meant for us. I'll drop it at his house on the way out of town and bring this fuzzy, freeloader back. She can stay with him for the week. I can't believe she snuck into my jacket last night and I carried her back here from his house without knowing it."

"Amazing how she can slip into small spaces. If you had only put your coat on instead of tossing it into the basket of food his wife sent us home with," Artie said, chuckling as he gave the kitten another pat. "You will do well as a secret agent, Sophie, you just need a little more training."

"Hmmmmmm," Jim growled, leaning closer to the kitten, "kittens are sneaky." Sophie licked his nose. "And you can't come with me and Cobb isn't here to take care of you so back you go. For another week. Then the train will be hooked back up to the engine, with the repaired boiler. Cobb said we will go a lot faster with higher steam pressure. Maybe we can get to San Francisco in four days now instead of five."

"As long as we stay up right on the rails," Artie said. "Well, James, have a safe trip and stay out of trouble. You should be safe from pirate ships in middle Virginia. I will see you in a week."

"You stay safe too," Jim said, grinning, as his partner picked up his two cases, "don't go near the docks. Actually, just stay close to your mother, she'll keep you safe."

Artie paused in the door, winking, "the only trouble I will get in will be in a hotel room." With a mock salute, he slipped outside, pulling the door shut behind him.

Jim turned to Sophie, "well, fuzzy, it's just you and me now. We'll finish this up and head out ourselves." He paused, squinting at another envelope. "Hey, this one says 'Lori' on it." He tilted it toward the sunlight again, moving it closer and farther. "Well, now, this is interesting. This is addressed to Lori at her address in Washington. Her secret home address that I am not supposed to know. And it's from her parents in Virginia? And close to my mother's house?" He looked at Sophie, "now what's the chance in that? Should I deliver it to her?" Sophie nodded, "you think so? She could kill me for knowing where she lives now." Sophie yawned hugely, showing her tiny teeth. "Ya, you could care less. This is a set up; you want me to be beaten to death, don't you?" Sophie meowed. Jim looked back at the envelope, "well I might as well be killed by an angry female. I live alone and I talk to a cat now so how much worse could life get?" He tossed the envelope onto the table as Sophie stood, stretched, and walked to his chest. She purred, rubbing her forehead under his chin.

"Oh, I was just joking," Jim said, patting her soft fur, "you take everything I say so literally. You're such a female." He pushed her against his vest as he reached around the grab another handful of envelopes. "We're almost done. Let's keep at it," he muttered, showing the next envelope to the kitten, "how about this one? Jim or Artie?" He waved the paper slightly, "no vote? We need to teach you to read. Even my horse can read, you know." He tossed the envelope onto Artie's pile, "yup, another one from your mother. Enjoy your week, partner. You'll come back so spoiled."

[

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Later that day….

[

Jim pulled the reins to turn his horse to the left, guiding the animal with the tilt of his body and pressure of his knees. He moved with the horse, unconsciously leaning as it turned and swaying back to upright as it moved forward down the lane. He wiped his forehead with the cuff of his blue traveling jacket as the hot afternoon sun shone down. He sighed as the horse moved instinctively to the shade of a line of wide oak branches along the lane.

"It's a hot day today, big fella," he said, his voice reassuring the horse. "Almost there now. One more turn. I think you know the way now without me telling you where to turn."

The horse tossed its head as its step quickened. Man and beast turned once more onto a gravel driveway, which quickly ended at the porch of a tan house with deep red shutters. The house and porch has bright white trim that glowed clean in the sunlight. A group of boys lazed on the railings and steps, clad in dusty pants and bright colored shirt sleeves.

"Uncle Jim!" One boy hollered out, waving an arm. He leaped over the railing and ran down the gravel, followed by the gang of boys, all smaller and slower.

"Hey, Davey," Jim said, leaning over the brush his left hand through the boys hair. The other boys crowded around him on both sides, some looking more interested in the horse and saddle. "Is everyone here already?"

"Ya, we've been here for days," a boy yelled out, "just waiting on you, Uncle Jim," another one said. Davy stepped back to pat the horses' neck. "Can we take care of your horse? We can feed it and water it and give him a good rub down."

Jim slowly swung his foot over the horse's rear end and dropped to the ground. He gave Davy and a couple boys a quick hug. "Ok, just move slow around him. I'll walk him to the barn with you." He handed the reins to Davey and hugged a few more boys. He felt a tug on the back of his coat and turned to see the smallest boy behind him.

"I thought you always wore a gun, Uncle Jim?" The boy said, with a pouting face. "I thought you were a sheriff or something."

Jim laughed and picked up the kid, holding him against his left side. "I am something like a sheriff," he said, "and not all guns are carried where you can see them. I always have a couple hidden on me."

"But you can't do a fast draw if it's hidden," another boy said, as the others searched his clothes, poking and pulling at his coat. "And I don't' see any hidden guns."

"I bet he has them in his boots," another boy yelled out. "I read about a guy in a book that hid small guns in his boots."

"He keeps them in his sleeves," another voice said. This caused the boys the tug on his jacket sleeves as Jim laughed at their antics.

"It's no good," Jim said, as he approached the porch, "you'll never find them. And I can still draw pretty quick." He set the boy on a step and turned to the group. "I'm going to go inside and say Hello to everyone and then I'll be out to check on my horse. So tell me again, what do you do for a horse?"

A couple boys recited in order, "feed, then water, then rub down, then turn out onto the field."

Jim laughed again, as Davey started to lead the black horse away. "Oh, wait, I almost forgot," he said, reaching for his saddle bags. He pulled the leather off the saddle horn and slung it over his shoulder as the boys all moved away. He turned and climbed the steps and pulled open a screen door. The heavy wooden front door was open wide into the deeply shaded front hall. "Hello," he called out, putting his hat on a hook by a mirror. "Anyone home?" He walked down the hall and looked into a large sitting room. Chairs were placed in rows and a small table was piled high with gifts. He stepped forward and opened his saddle bags, pulling out two neatly wrapped gifts and a blue envelope. He set them on the table in a pile, off to one side, and dropped the saddle bags behind an arm chair.

"Jim?" A man's deep voice spoke from the hallway. "Jim, is that you?"

"Hey, Mark," Jim said, turning to walk across the room. A tall man, square shouldered with tight, curling blond hair stepped into the room, filling the doorway. "How ya doin'?"

"Damn, brother," the larger man said with a quick, dimpled grin, "you scared us half to death this time!" He stepped forward and engulfed Jim in a bear hug and quickly pushed away. "Are you all right? What the hell happened?"

"What? Jim grinned, "I'm fine, Mark."

Mark shook his head, "you look ok and I ought to know." He smacked Jim lightly in the chest with the back of his fingers. "I should make you take you clothes off and give you a through professional exam today."

"I don't think so," Jim said, stepping back with his hands raised. "And you're not my doctor."

"Look, all I know is Mom sent us all letters after she got the telegram from your office. It said you were officially listed as missing." He paused as Jim nodded, "How did your office not know where you were?"

"Artemus and I went somewhere on short notice and then had a tough time communicating where we were," Jim shrugged, grinning. "It was just a miss communication. Happens all the time. They shouldn't be so quick with their telegrams of gloom and doom."

"I guess as long as everyone is ok," Mark said, "and Artemus is all right too then?" Jim nodded. "Ok, well, Mom and Edward and everyone else are on the back porch. Cooler out there now. She will be thrilled to see you." He wrapped a long arm around Jim's shoulder and they moved to the hall and through the house, down narrow hallways, through a large kitchen and pushed through another screen door on the back of the house. Mark pulled Jim into a crowded porch, with the announcement, "look who I found, Ma."

Jim stepped into the room, and crossed quickly to an elderly small woman who was standing in the center of the group. Her pale blue eyes had widened with surprise and quickly filled with tears. Jim hugged her, gently but firmly, his face pressed against her cheek. He pulled slightly away, keeping an arm around her, "Happy Birthday, Ma. You knew I wouldn't miss your party."

"Oh, my stars," the woman said, "this is the best present I could have." She wiped tears from her eyes as she looked at the other adults in the room. Mark had moved next to a pretty young blond women. Nearby a dark haired woman stood next to another larger, square shouldered man, with dark hair. He looked like a mix of Jim and Mark, but was clearly older than both men.

"Ed," Jim said, nodding, and he grinned to the women, "hope I didn't miss any excitement."

"As always," the man said, his deep voice vibrating in a drum of a chest, "you seem to be the excitement, Jim." His voice was a mix of pleasure, disapproval, and boredom. The two women quickly stepped forward to hug Jim at the same time, while managing to include his mother in the group.

"Well, this is something," the elderly woman said, "I think I need to sit before I fall over." Jim moved her to a chair and then sat down next to her. She laid a hand on his knee as he kept an arm around her shoulders. "You know we received one of those telegrams from your office." She paused as Jim grinned and shook his head, "I know you tell me to ignore those but then I received a letter too from that nice Colonel Richmond. He tried to say it was just a formality but I could hear the worry in his words."

"He said it was a miscommunication in his office," Mark said, nodding to Jim, "probably too many pretty secretaries working there now and they lost a memo."

The group laughed and Ed added, "too many government workers anyway now, especially in Washington. How we have secret agents is beyond me anyway. Lawmen should wear a badge out in the open."

Jim laughed, leaning back in the chair, soaking in the normalness of his family, even with the traditional arguments of his two older brothers.

"Wouldn't it be difficult to investigate crime if the bad guys knew he was an officer?" Mark asked Ed. "He must know what he's doing. He's obviously very e successful at his work." He turned to Jim, "have you arrested a lot of criminals lately? Maybe someone we read about in the papers?"

Before Jim could answer, Ed interjected, "you're a doctor, Mark, not a dime store clerk pushing paperback novels of Sherlock Holmes. " He turned to Jim, "how often do these people you arrest live to get to court? And how many are convicted?"

"I don't have an exact count, Ed," Jim grinned. "I really should keep better numbers. Maybe Artemus has some statistics written up. If he doesn't, I bet he could make you a chart."

"How is Artemus," Jim's mother asked, gently ending the debate between her three sons. "Was he with you on this trip? If so, his family must also have been notified as probably worried too."

"He is fine and yes, he was with me every step of the way," Jim said, "He's in New York City with his family now. I know he has also told them not to worry when we are called away."

"New York City," the younger of the two women squealed. "So exciting," she gushed, looking at Mark, "I wish we could go someday? Get away for a while?" Mark smiled and nodded, but didn't reply.

"Doctors need to stay near their patients," Jim's mother said with a smile. "Mark is so dedicated," she said, turning to the obviously middle aged son. He had a square head with lighter brown hair, but the dimples showed when he smiled. "You look so much like your father," she added, turning to Edward, "as do you too, dear." Ed's body shape was the same, large, square head and broad shoulders, but his hair was much darker, almost black.

"And Jim's the runt," Mark teased, as they laughed good naturedly, except for the mother who gave them her usual tsk tsk. "He know's we don't mean it. He could still beat us at anything physical, just like when we were kids. He was always too fast to catch and too strong if you did catch him."

"Just like my brothers," Jim's mother said, tapping her hand on his knee, "they loved to wrestle and race around. Ride horses and climb trees." She nodded, as Jim gave her a light squeeze on her shoulders. Her old, quiet voice continued, "yes, James, you are an O'Connor, like my father and my brothers. Irish for Patron of Warriors. We could all see that the day you were born."

"Came out waving his fists," Ed said, as Mark waved his fists at Jim. "Fighting mad every day. Until he was old enough to discover girls, that is." Jim wiped tears from his eyes as they all roared in laughter.

"Oh," his mother said, "that reminds me. I wanted to tell you, that young lady, Marissa, had another child just last month. I think I wrote you…"

"Yes," Jim nodded, gasping slightly as he tried to catch his breath, "you did. And last year when she had twins." He grinned, "she must be happily married and has completely forgotten about me by now. It's been years."

"Well I am waiting for you to settle down, just the same," she said, patting his knee again absently. "And I need some O'Connor grandchildren."

Jim waved a hand to his brothers, "those two have given you plenty of grandkids," Jim said, as the older brothers agreed, as did the two wives who sat nearby. "They are O'Connor's too. How many are there now? Eight?" He shook his head, "maybe someday but not right now."

"Oh, there are never enough grandchildren," his mother said with a twinkle in her eye. "but you will join in soon, I have a feeling." Jim groaned as a door slammed behind him. He started to turn, instinct kicking in, but two high pitched voices rang out.

"Maud?" One called from the kitchen. "Where is everyone? I thought this was a birthday party!" Two tall women, one thin and one more robust, burst onto the porch. They each wore bright printed dresses and wide brimmed straw hats. As they came in, Jim stood, smiling.

"My stars! Its James! Returned from yet another mystery," the thin one exclaimed. The two women embraced him at the same time, both asking questions.

"Young man, you need a new profession. Scaring your mother and both your Aunts have to death," the heavier woman scolded. "You should learn to be a doctor or a lawyer like your brothers." Jim settled them into two more chairs and returned to his by his mother's side. "Don't you think so, Maud?"

"I think James has an important job," Jim's mother said, "just as important as Mark and Edward. My husband, God rest his sole, worked in Washington helping the Veterans and he saw the abuse. James does similar work but helps everyone. "

"Why is there such evil in men's hearts," the thin woman said, clasping a hand, clutching a flowered handkerchief. "So many dangerous man to be arrested and put into prison. It just keeps me awake at night worrying about what might happen to you."

"Oh, but it's the women that are clever," Jim said, with a wink and a flash of his dimples. "I have to be very careful of them."

"Oh, my stars!" she fanned herself with the cloth, "you must tell us this evening. I bet you are just full of stories. Especially where you have been lately."

"It's all confidential," his mother said, "Clara and Uda, you both know better than to ask. That would be like asking Mark about his patients or Edward about his clients." She squeezed Jim's knee again, leaning past him slightly, "but sometimes I do see him in the newspaper in court or in the society columns and it is thrilling. And you know I keep them all in a book upstairs."

Jim burst out laughing again as his family teased him further. "Ma, you shouldn't believe what you read in the papers. I have explained that to you. It's all fake news to get you to buy the paper." He shook his head, "after dinner I will tell you where I've been. It turned out to be very interesting and we met a lot of good people. All's well that ends well." He gave her a kiss on her cheek. "Glad I had Artemus with me though. A week of rest and we will be back to work."

"Well, I'd say it's time for dinner and birthday cake," Mark said, standing and holding a hand out to the younger of the two wives. "And then I believe there are presents to open for the birthday girl."

Edward also stood, his dark suit fitting tightly across his expanding midsection. "Maybe I can scare up all those kids with one loud whistle!" He patted his stomach, "serve them right if I called them after dinner." The group moved into the kitchen and through it again, into a large dining room. The two aunts stayed behind in the kitchen, with the two wives, as Jim and his brothers escorted his mother to the dining room. She sat at the head of the table and the boys sat near her.

"It's good to have all my boys here," she whispered, taking Jim's hand in her left and Mark's hand in her right. Edward smiled from farther down the table. "I wish your father was here to see how you have all turned out, but I know he is watching from above. Sometimes I think that's how you get a little extra luck, James," she said, squeezing his fingers. "I like to think he is watching over you."

Jim smiled, but his eyes teared, feeling as if someone was suddenly behind his shoulder, reassuring him.

[

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Early morning, Days Later…

]

"I wish you weren't leaving so soon," her soft voice said. She rested a wrinkled hand onto his knee, her fingers clutching a new laced-trimmed cloth handkerchief. "You should come more often but I know you're busy with your work." Jim patted the hand gently. "Your father would have enjoyed seeing how respected you are in Washington. Such important work all over the country and everyone depending on you." She chuckled, "your brothers do get jealous, don't they? But don't worry if they seem harsh. They are just teasing you."

"I know, Ma, it's fine. They've done it for years," Jim said quietly. "You know I see you when I am in the city. Sometimes we are gone for months at a time."

"You will have to find a young lady that will understand about that," she said, giving his thigh a squeeze. "One of these modern, independent ladies," she chuckled as Jim's face blushed. "You use to keep the girls here very hopeful but they have all married now. " She let out a long sigh.

"Now, Ma," Jim said, slightly more sternly, "you know we have talked about this. You have grandkids from two married sons. Two out of three isn't bad. I just lead a busy life."

"Yes, but you take after my side of the family. The O'Connors," she said, repeating her old sayings. "Your brothers are more like your father; tall and broad. You are like my father, more compact and strong." They rocked quietly on the swinging chair. "Though all three of you have those dimples. Your father was so handsome, just like you," she murmured. "You will be married in the next few years, I predict, and have lovely children."

Jim laughed, "really, Ma," he said, kissing the top of her head, "you think I will be married in the new few years? Is that three years or four?" He patted her hand again as she nodded. "I guess I had better look more seriously." He paused, as the chair swung back and forth. "It's not that I couldn't get married, tomorrow even, but maybe…" he said, thinking, "how can someone decide on one person to stay with forever? Maybe all the women I have met seem the same, almost interchangeable."

His mother whispered, leaning close," you just haven't met the one yet. Or maybe she is right in front of you and you have known her all along, but you just aren't noticing her."

Jim sighed, grinning, "I don't know, Ma, it seems complicated. And I see people decide on the wrong person too."

"Oh, well," she said, nodding, "it happens but usually to careless people or to dreamers. You still have to use your head as well as your heart. You're no fool so I don't think that would happen to you." She nodded, "no, I think you will settle down, and very soon, with the perfect young lady. You just wait and see."

"Well, until then," Jim said, looking down at his mother, "you'll just have to be my special girl. Now I have to head back to Washington. Let me walk you back inside and I will say good bye to everyone else." They stood slowly, "and I'll be back again." He held the screen door for her as they moved inside.

[

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tbc


	2. Chapter 2 Secrets Among Friends

Chapter 2. Secrets Among Friends

Later that day, on the way back to headquarters...

[

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The afternoon sun shone down on Jim as he rode the black horse down the long, dusty road. Thick oak lined the edges of both sides, occasionally breaking to show glimpses of the homes set far back from the road. Large brick or white paneled homes, two and even three stories, seemed to be common in the area.

He pulled the sealed envelopes from his jacket pocket to check the address again. He shook his head, muttering, "Well, I'm on the right street but this isn't what I pictured. She said she was a farm girl but these are huge estates." He tucked the envelopes back inside his coat and pulled up his canteen. He took a long drink and screwed the cap back on the threaded top. He hung it again by its long strap on the saddle horn and reached down to pat the horse's neck. "Well, big fella, maybe her family works as laborers on one of these farms. Hopefully someone will know her name." He nudged the horse with his heels and the animal walked forward again in a lazy, afternoon pace. Jim yawned as they rode around a corner. He pulled the horse to a stop as a young boy stood in the middle of the road

"Halt," the boy said sternly, holding his right hand up, palm out. "Who goes there?" A large black, shaggy dog stood behind the boy. The animal appeared sleepy with the heat but its dark eyes watched Jim closely.

"Good afternoon, young man," Jim said, grinning at the boy's seriousness. "Is this a hold up?"

"No, sir," the boy snapped, keeping his hand up, "this is a Toll Road and you have to pay to pass by." He lowered his hand and moved a step closer, fists now on his hips as he walked. His clothes seemed lose, almost too large for his small frame, and his boot heels dragged in the dirt. "Do you agree or do I have to get tough?" He pointed a thumb back, over his shoulder, "that dog is trained to kill. One word from me and…"

"Oh, no," Jim said, holding both hands out, "I don't want any trouble. I will gladly pay a toll to pass by." He paused, chuckling, "you must live around here to run this toll road business."

"I might," the youngster said suspiciously. "Why?"

Jim lowered his hands and leaned over his saddle horn, "I'm looking for someone. A friend. A pretty girl that probably lives near here, maybe works on one of these farms."

The boy puffed his chest out proudly, exclaiming, "I know everyone here. You just say the name and I can tell you where they live and all about them too." He nodded once, and held out a hand, "but it will cost you. Information and the toll."

Jim nodded and slid from his saddle. He took a couple of steps closer and got down on one knee. He took off his hat and wiped the sweat from his forehead. "I am lucky to have run onto you. This could save me a lot of time. Let's say," he reached a couple fingers into a pocket and pulled out a shiny coin, "how about a dollar?" The boy's eyes lit up and he jumped forward, to grab the coin. Jim closed his hand, hiding the coin inside his fist, "oh, no, first I tell you the name. And you better tell me the truth or else. In fact, you should come with me so you don't send me on a wild goose chase."

The boy thought for a minute and nodded in agreement. "ok," he said, "deal".

"Alright," Jim said, holding the coin again between his thumb and finger, amused as the boy's eyes moved to stare at it. "I am looking for a young blond woman, around maybe 25 years old, works on a farm. The name is Lori Huntington," he paused as the boy burst out laughing. He hoped up and down, holding his arms around his stomach, laughing. "What's so funny? Do you know her or don't you?"

"Of course I know her," the boy said, "that's my ma!" He snatched the coin from Jim's fingers as the older man froze, completely surprised. The boy turned to the dog, "I guess we can find her, can't we, Sam." The dog panted, his tongue hanging out, as the boy tucked the coin into his pocket.

Jim cleared his throat, still trying to process the information, "Lori is your mother," he said slowly. "Not your sister?"

"Sister?" The boy laughed again, shaking his head. "No, she's my ma. We all live in my grandad's house. It's down that ole road there. You can't see it from the main road." He pointed down a narrow dirt side road that was bare of any signage. "He don't want his name out by the road. Said anyone who knows him already knows where he lives." The boy stepped back as Jim stood up and put his hat back on his head. "Hey," the boy said slowly, obviously looking Jim up and down, "I know you! You're Jim West, ain't ya?"

Jim grinned, "I am." He leaned over and held his hand out. The boy shook hands with him, grinning. "And what is your name?"

"Tommy," the boy grinned. He let go of Jim's hand and ran closer to the black horse, rubbing his fingers over the silver conchos on the reins. He touched the leather and inspected the edge of the saddle. "My mom talks about you all the time! She said you usually wear a blue suit when you travel and ride a tall black horse and the saddle is covered with silver conchos."

Jim watched the young boy, noticing the dirty blond hair that matched Lori's, and the shape of his face, the high cheek bones and the square chin. He chuckled at the thought of the boy stopping strangers in the road demanding money for a toll. Creative, crafty, and unafraid, just like his mother, he said to himself.

"Can I ride with you back to the house?" Tommy asked, turning his excited face to Jim. "Sam can follow. My ma is home today." He shrugged, "she isn't always. She lives in Washington sometimes too but I guess you know that."

"Well I am glad to catch her home then," Jim said, stepping forward. He put his hands on the boy's waist and easily lifted him onto the saddle. The boy threw a leg over and grabbed the reins. "Hey, hold on now," Jim said, stepping into the stirrup. He swung his leg over and settled onto the horse's rump, reaching around the boy to take the reins.

Sam stood up and started a low growl, watching Tommy. The boy looked down at his dog, "its ok, Sam. Follow us. We're going home now." Jim turned the horse down the lane, and the dog followed. Tommy turned to look at Jim behind him, his forehead wrinkled with worries, "you aren't going to tell my ma about my toll road business, are you?"

Jim laughed, shaking his head, "you keep that a secret? I won't tell. That's business between us men anyway."

"Good," Tommy nodded. "Us guys have to stick together."

"How old are you, Tommy," Jim asked, as they rode down the gravel road. There were not as many trees so he was able to see much father. Fields were on both sides of the road as far as he could see, with grains growing on one side and corn on the other.

"I'm five," the boy said, "how old are you?"

Jim chuckled, "I'm thirty-five."

"That's old," the boy nodded, "my uncles are old like that too. I don't think my ma is that old yet though. My uncles are all older than her. My grandparents are really old." The young boy talked constantly as they road. Within a few minutes, they turned a corner and the house was visible. Jim pulled his horse to a stop, staring at the massive home. The center was three stories, with balconies on each level. Two symmetrical, smaller sections were attached on either side. The sides were white painted clapboards while the center was brick with white trim. The front porches were all held up with wide white columns and decorative railings. "There it is. That's our house," the boy said, pointing. "And there's my ma right on the front porch." He waved and a slight figure, dressed in a flowered print dress, waved back. "She's going to be really surprised to see you!"

Jim snorted, "yes, this day is full of surprises." He rode the horse down the road, past a large, round flower garden, and pulled up alongside the porch railing. Lori was leaning against a column, her eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Surprise," Jim said, though the word choked in his throat.

"Uh, huh," Lori said. She reached over the railing and grasped the little boy's arms, pulling him gently off the horse. "Looks like you found a new friend today." She gave him a quick hug and set him on the deck, "why don't you go ask your grandmother to set another place at the dinner table? Jim and I will be in shortly." The boy scampered through the open door and down the hallway as Lori turned to look back at Jim.

"Well, I see you aren't dead," she said slowly, looking at him. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against a column. "That will make Richmond feel better. But it doesn't explain why you're here. He wouldn't send you."

Jim smiled and shook his head. He pulled out a letter and handed it to her, over the railing. "This was mixed in with my mail. I noticed the address was near my mother's house so I just thought I would swing by and deliver it, in case it was something important. It's obviously late so…" he paused as he watched the girl's face. Her eyebrow crooked at him as she reached out to take the letter. "Well, anyway, I didn't mean to annoy you or interrupt anything or discover any family secrets." He started to back his horse up, feeling foolish and angry at the same time.

Lori let out a long sigh as she tossed the envelope onto a porch chair, "oh, stop," she said, "you can't run away now. I guess I can't keep secrets from secret agents. But you sure can't avoid eating dinner either. My mother would have both our heads if you didn't share the sacred midday meal with us." She sat on the railing and swung her legs over the top. "Come over here and give me a ride, I'll show you around the farm."

Jim nudged his horse forward and held his left arm out. Lori grabbed his forearm and swung onto the horse behind the saddle. She pulled her skirts flat behind her and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Where to," Jim said quietly. "This place is enormous."

"Down the road," she said, pointing. "Then to the left. I will show you the fields and the lake, then we will circle back and take care of your horse before dinner." Jim nudged the horse again into a slow walk. "So, where ya been? Richmond has been going crazy with all the disappearing agents lately. But now that you're back…"

"Artie and I were on a trip," he said, slowly, "a sudden, unexpected, and very long sea voyage. It was a separate issue than what appears to be going on with missing agents." He paused, thinking, "Colonel Richmond described what's been happening but you might be able to fill in some holes."

"No one is sure that anything is really happening," Lori said slowly. "An agent named Harrison, no one I ever met, was the first one. He was reported missing by his partner. Richmond and Jeremy were worried but hoped he would turn up eventually, dead or alive. Then, a few weeks later, an agent named Perry was reported as missing. Again, they were upset but didn't notice any patterns. By the third missing agent, Clark was his name, they started talking about something more organized happening. Then you two both disappeared, so that seemed to break the pattern, throwing everyone into a panic and mass confusion. Richmond has been muttering to himself a lot, writes notes down constantly in a little notebook. Jeremy is always running between the office and the telegraph room downstairs. Steve is mostly hanging around the equally confused, but pleasant, new secretary."

Jim grinned, "yes, I met her. Celeste, I think she said." He turned to look back at Lori. "What about the prison break in New York? A Federal prisoner suddenly is transferred to a State prison and then escapes?"

"Yes, Richmond was very upset when that report got to him," she said, nodding. "And it happened while you are Artemus were missing so he swore it was connected. But I guess not?"

"No," Jim said, turning the horse around a corner. Fields of corn and grains were on both sides of the narrow dirt road. In the distant, on steeper hills, were various colored cows grazing on shorter grass. "Voltaire was Dr. Loveless's number one assistant. Both were arrested by Artemus and I in California a few years ago. They were housed in the same Federal prison. But one day they escaped together. Loveless is smart but has no athletic ability because of his small size. He needs Voltaire to help him move around quickly. After we tracked them down and arrested them a second time, they were housed separately. Both placed in even stronger prisons." He paused, stopping his horse to look at a distant small lake, sparkling in the sunlight. "Very nice to have your own lake."

"It is nice," Lori said, pointing to the right. "My father and his brothers made an earthen dam many years ago. It seems to be holding, well even when it floods, and really is over full with water. We go swimming and fishing in it and, of course, the cows use it too."

"Of course," Jim said, his eyes taking in the small row boat tied to a dock near the road. He shuddered at the thought of rowing, even just on the small lake. He eyes returned to the sparkling surface, almost looking for the fin of a shark.

"Just keep on the roadway, it will eventually go to the barns," Lori said, pointing to the right. "And keep telling me your story about Loveless. He must have escaped again since you seem to be chasing him all the time now."

Jim snorted as he nudged his horse forward with his boot heels. "Yes, he escaped this last time without Voltaire. The prison wasn't sure but suspected he hid in a large laundry bag and was removed by the company that cleans the cells. He probably doesn't weigh very much and he is good at hiding. With his small size, he can hide almost anywhere." He let out a long sigh, "and now Voltaire has been mysteriously transferred out of the high security Federal prison into a low security State facility. Richmond was doing some investigating through official channels but I want to visit the prison itself. Both prisons, actually."

"Do you think it might be connected with the disappearing agents," Lori asked.

"Hard to say at this point," Jim said quietly. The road became steeper as they moved away from the lake. Buildings appeared on either side of them, and Lori described them as they moved past, pointing out a blacksmith shop, tannery, tinsmith, and other workmen as they road by. "You seem to have a small village back here."

"Yes, it's expanded over the years," she said. "My father employs many people in the area and adds more all the time. Many have talents and training but need a location to work. So he just provides the buildings. There is even a school now on the edge of the property. My son Tommy will be starting this fall."

Jim pulled his horse to a stop underneath a wide oak tree and removed his hat, wiping sweat from his forehead. He swung his right leg over the saddle horn and, twisting, dropped to the ground. He removed his canteen and took a drink. He offered it to Lori and she took it, taking a quick drink. "I must admit," Jim said quietly. "Tommy surprised me. But, now that I have thought about it, I'm not sure why."

"Would you like to hear the story?" Lori asked, handing his canteen back. Her gaze was steady with no sign of embarrassment. "It's not a long story."

"Don't I get to guess first?" Jim grinned. "You fell in love, nature took its course, and you had a child. Nothing unusual. I assume your husband passed away, maybe in the war?"

Lori's pale grey eyes stared at him for a moment, "that would have been handy but, no," she said, "I was married for almost two years. My husband had the marriage annulled because I wasn't giving him a child. A couple months after we separated, I realized I was pregnant." She shrugged, "he lives in Washington. Tommy lives here."

Jim watched her for a heart-beat, "so he doesn't know about Tommy?"

"No," Lori said sternly, as she slid of the black horse to stand in front of Jim, "he doesn't." She let out a long sigh, "I've always told him his father is elsewhere, doesn't live with us. Someday, when he is older, he can decide if he wants to connect with him. But for now, Tommy lives in my world."

"Do other people know about this," Jim asked quietly, "outside of your family?"

"Colonel Richmond knows," Lori said, "which is why I have this part-time deal with the service. President Grant knows, of course, since my father and he are close friends and I have been friends with his daughter for years."

"Yes," Jim said, nodding, "you had mentioned he suggested this arrangement with Richmond for you to guard women in need of protection. This has put a dent in my opportunities with all the Princesses visiting the U.S." He grinned as she laughed. "Well, your secret is safe with me. I won't mention it to anyone." He reached passed her to hang the canteen on the saddle horn. "Care to walk for a bit?"

They turned and walked up the sloping path. Jim's horse followed behind him. Lori turned to watch the horse, "he is well trained. You don't even keep the reins with you?"

As they paused, the horse walked up behind Jim to nuzzle the back of his head, the large tongue licking up his sweating neck. "No," Jim said, reaching back to pat the soft nose, "I couldn't shake this guy if I tried. No need to pull on the reins." He turned to look at the horse as he talked, "except for the time with the wolf. You took off running down the road into the dark and left me behind, didn't you?" The horse shook its big head, "but I guess you did come back on your own."

They continued walking in awkward silence, "So tell me about dinner before I go in." Jim said, "who will there? Formal? Informal?"

Lori rolled her eyes and stopped walking again, "Informal, shirt sleeves rolled up, hands and face scrubbed clean, dogs outside." She laughed as she looked back at the horse, "and horses that think they are dogs too." She looked around the buildings as they continued past more workshops. "My mother is the cook, with a couple of my cousins to help; my father, of course, and my four brothers, and their wives and kids."

"That's a large group," Jim said, "is this every day?"

"Oh, yes," Lori said, nodding, "they all live on the property and everyone works here doing something. Except me," she sighed. "I used to work a lot in the fields, cutting hay and grains. My mother wanted me to cook when I got older but I didn't like being stuck in the hot kitchen. And she doesn't have any of those cook books that your partner has. She expects everyone to just remember how to make everything." Lori shook her head, "no, I couldn't stand it. Last winter I helped in the school. I think I will do that again this year. I taught history and law," she said, smiling at Jim.

"That's impressive," Jim said, giving her another look. "Law books can be dry to read. I started to study that in college but the war interrupted and I never returned. I helped start the Secret Service instead, growing it, adding more agents and training everyone." He took a long breath, "you never know what turns life will take."

"Well, just be prepared for a lot of questions," Lori said, as they reached a large corral. "They have heard a few stories about you so your introduction can be short. But everyone will want a lot of exciting adventure stories."

"And your father is friends with President Grant?" Jim walked through the gate, into the corral. The horse followed and then hurried ahead to a water trough. As it drank, Jim unbuckled the saddle and carried it to a rack nearby. Lori carried the horse blanket behind him.

"My father knew him before the war," she said, "they were both at West Point together. Both served in the Mexican War. Then my father supplied food to the soldiers during the Civil War."

"My father also attended West Point," Jim said quietly, "and was in the war with Mexico. He had an injured his right leg from a bullet wound that got infected. It never healed correctly, left him with a permanent limp. But I don't think it was painful. He worked in Washington in an office, helping the veterans."

"They may have all traveled in the same circles," Lori said, "I suppose everyone probably did from this area." A dinner bell clanged from the house. "Oh, that's the ten minute warning," she grinned. "We better get cleaned up."

Jim pulled the bridle off his horse and hung it on the rack by the saddle. He patted the horse's neck. "I'm going to get some lunch, you stay put. I'll see ya later." The horse tossed its head and moved to a rack of hay. Jim followed Lori out of the corral and closed the gate. Many people were walking toward the large house up the lane. "This isn't the life I expected when you said you lived on a farm."

"It's still a farm," she said, smiling as they entered the house.

[

]

Hours later…

]

[

"Now, James," the tall, older man said slowly, as they walked in the hot afternoon sun, "we all take our work very seriously. No man is exempt from the hard labor of the fields and shops and no man would refuse to learn a skill to better himself." He paused to look over the large field in front of them. Grain was drying in the sunlight, stacked in tall groups. Many people were working with hand scythes, cutting stalks of grain on the edge of the field, handing them to others who tied them into bundles and formed the tall upright stacks. "In this field, we are growing oats. After they dry, the stalks will be gathered for threshing to beat the oats from the stalks. The oats will go to our mill on the back side of the pond." The older man pointed toward the pond in the distance. "The remaining straw will be stored in the barns near the hay." He paused again, clearing his voice. "My daughter Lori was brought up with her brothers in the fields as a youngster. I thought it was important for her to have the same learning as they did." He winked at James, the stern face taking on a warmth that Jim hadn't seen during dinner. "But the misses has often reminded me that I ruined her for women's work inside the home. Seems she didn't take to cooking and mending and that fancy needlework." He gave a short laugh, "no, my daughter could work better than most men. Still can. And I still think it's a good idea for her to learn it all."

Jim grinned, "she seems to be a strong and intelligent young lady." He caught Lori watching him from a few yards away. The men in the family, and Lori, had all walked from the house after the meal, to work in the grain fields. "I am afraid that I haven't had half the education she has, concerning farming. I have cut hay a bit but never grains." He watched the people moving in small groups, and the stacks of grains increasing in numbers. "My father kept horses but he purchased the feed."

"That's very good," the older man said, "that's commerce. We who grow need customers." He rubbed his chin absently, "As I said at dinner, I don't remember your father during West Point or during the war. It's been so many years," he said, shaking his head, "but when you mentioned he worked with the veterans in Washington." He stopped to turn to Jim, "and he walked with a limp, you say, and he was often riding a fine horse. I do believe I met him during his work." He nodded, continuing to think. "Yes, I remember that I spoke to a man at a funeral one day. I remember he didn't dismount, as others did. It was explained to me by others later that he would not be able to walk to the funeral chairs to sit in the audience and therefore always stayed mounted so he could see and hear the minister speak." He nodded, "must have been him."

` "Yes, he would often listen from his horse," Jim nodded, "in the back, out of the way. I would accompany him to many of those funerals." He thought back of numerous formal military funerals, seated on a horse next to his father. "There were always so many people that it was often difficult to remember who attended or even speak to half of them. But he wanted to be seen and communicate to men that needed help."

"Yes, it was a bad time," the older man said, "but President Grant has been excellent putting this country back together. And especially spreading commerce back into our southern states. Hopefully the bitterness will pass with time." They continued to walk down the road, approaching the grain field. The old man turned to his daughter, "Lori, I will leave you to give James a tour of our work here. He may find the mill interesting." The man turned to shake Jim's hand, "I hope you will stay with us this evening. I look forward to discussing President Grant with you and what this secret work my daughter does. She always seems vague with details." The man leaned over to kiss Lori on her cheek and then walked slowly toward the workers.

"Thank you for being patient with him today," Lori said quietly, watching the older man walk over the rough terrain. "He loves to know everything, from his farm to all the secrets in Washington."

"He seems to have an active mind," Jim said, "and your brothers appear careful to include him in all the decisions here. Its healthier for him to keep involved. I would like to hear about Grant before the war. He never has much to say about that to Artemus and me."

"They won't let you leave now," Lori laughed, as they started to walk down yet another dirt road. "First its noon dinner, then its evening supper. Then it's, 'oh, you should stay overnight. Not safe to travel at night.'" She pointed at the cottages behind the various workshops. "All these people just stopped in to say Hello and here they still are. Can't leave."

Jim laughed, "well, I will have to leave eventually. I have another mystery to solve, as usual." He took a deep breath, "but I don't really have to be back in Washington until tomorrow. Artie should be arriving tonight, and will let Cobb know to get the train ready. It should be put back together now. If not, we can travel by public train. I want to visit the prisons," he paused, shaking his head, "maybe Richmond will know more by now. It's been a week."

"Maybe the missing men have returned now," Lori said, "like you and your partner. Disappear and reappear, with barely a word about what happened." She hooked her hand onto his right elbow. "You keep twisting everyone's questions back at themselves but I think it's time you told me what the hell you did for over three months."

Jim picked a long piece of grass as they walked, putting the broken end into his teeth. He grinned as he chewed on the grass. "Well, I guess I can tell you, if you can keep a secret."

"I'd say we could just call it even," Lori agreed.

]

[

Late that night…

]

[

"You could still escape," Lori whispered, leaning closer to Jim. Her lips were almost touching his ear, the tip of her nose brushing against his hair. "Into the darkness," Jim laughed quietly. "You're falling for their trap; dinner, friendly conversation, free room and board, and even more relatives tomorrow. It won't end, I warn you."

"I don't want to run away," Jim whispered back. "I like it here. Comfy bed tonight, breakfast, which I am sure will be as fantastic as your mother's meals were today," He leaned closer to her, watching the moonlight glint off her blond hair, "besides, this is the first time I have been alone with you. Tell me you missed me while I was gone and worried every day."

"If I did miss you, I wouldn't admit it. You would just get ideas. Besides you have enough women to chase," She giggled, as his lips touched her neck. "If you stay, you'll have to attend church tomorrow".

"I can go to a church service," he whispered, his voice soft and low now, "I won't burst into flames." He touched a finger to her chin and turned her face toward his, "maybe you don't want to be seen with me at church. Maybe you've told too many stories about me to your friends and don't want me to find out."

"Who, me?" She smiled in the darkness, "I never talk about you."

Jim leaned closer and kissed her lightly on the lips while bracing himself for a face slap. Instead he felt her hand move to his neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss.

She pulled back slightly, whispering, "don't let this kiss give you ideas. I'm just bored tonight and you're handy. I'm not going to be standing in line in Washington waiting for you to ask me out."

"What if I asked you out," Jim whispered, his lips touching her's as he whispered. "Would you say yes? Dinner and dancing? Theaters?"

"What about Melinda and all the others," Lori said, teasing, "I don't want to start any fights in the office. Secretaries can be dangerous."

"Artie can make me a disguise," Jim chuckled. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, kissing her, feeling her melt against him.

"Ma?" a small voice floated through the darkness. "Ma? Are you out there?"

Jim leaned back from Lori, as they sat on the porch swing. "Well, we were alone for a good five minutes," he whispered. Lori leaned away from him and called out to the little boy.

"Tommy," she whispered toward the open doorway, "we're out here on the porch." Little feet thumped across the wooden hallway floor. The little boy appeared in the doorway, paused, and then hurried toward them. He jumped onto the bench, sending it swinging backwards until Jim put his boot heel onto the deck to stop its movement.

Jim gave a gentle push to swing it again more slowly. "I thought you were in bed," he said, leaning an arm behind the boy, along the back of the bench. The boy wiggled deeper between him and Lori, grinning.

"Oh, I heard you talking and I wanted to come out too," Tommy said, whispering. He leaned against Jim's side and put his bare feet onto his mother's lap. "And you said you were leaving tomorrow and I wanted to listen to more stories tonight."

"I said I would be around for a bit tomorrow," Jim laughed, smoothing the boy's blond hair. "Breakfast, church, and Sunday dinner."

"But we can't talk at church," Tommy said, already sounding sleepy. "And breakfast is hurried before church. We barely get fed anything. And then dinner is really fancy and we can't talk much then either." He blinked toward his Mom, "are we going to let Mr. Jim come back again?"

"Mr. Jim," Jim laughed, "that's pretty formal. You can call me Jim and I'm sure I'll come back to visit you, whether your mother likes it or not. Us guys stick together, remember?"

Lori punched him lightly in the shoulder. "You guys?" She tugged at her son's bare feet. "Yes, Jim can visit whenever he wants. Maybe you can take him fishing on his next trip." The little boy yawned and his eyes closed as he lay in Jim's lap. "I think you can go back to bed now."

"I think he's already asleep," Jim said, watching the boy. "He really does look like you. It's amazing you have a son. My mother was just saying to me this morning how life can change quickly. I never thought…"

"Good things can come from the worst situations," Lori said softly. "But I am probably the world's worst mother." She wiped a tear from her eye. "I want to be here with him, then I want my own home, but then I want to be in Washington with my friends," she paused as her voice caught in her throat, "I love my work but I want to be an old fashioned housewife too."

Jim stared at her, surprised at the sudden heart-felt confession. "Well, first, you need to be married to be a housewife, I think," he joked trying to lighten the mood. "And I think you are a fantastic mother, from what I've seen today. Maybe a little unconventional since you are also a secret agent." He grinned at her as she giggled, blinking away tears. "And we need to discuss that in more detail. Your parents seem to think you work in an office in Washington. Just what do they know?"

"That I work in an office in Washington," Lori repeated. "Safe, boring, steady. And I get a lot of days off to come back here. I make my own schedule."

"Nice office work," Jim said, nodding. "No mention of guns, knives, fighting? No mention of escorting Princesses?"

"That bothers you, doesn't it," she laughed. "You miss being the Princess escort service? You really should be doing more important work than that."

"That was important," Jim sighed, "and it was my favorite part. But good to know for more family conversations tomorrow. I don't want to let any secrets slip out." He picked up the boy, now sound asleep, and moved him slowly to his shoulder. "Well we might as well put him back to bed and get to sleep ourselves. I don't want to be late for church in the morning."

"I always heard you were brave," Lori said, quietly walking behind him as they entered the house. "This will certainly prove it to me."

]

[

The afternoon sun shone around the yard, leaving the wide roofed porch in deep shade. A chorus of cicadas buzzed in the distant trees, their song broken by the closer buzz of bees in the flowers along the porch railing. The humid air hung around everyone relaxing in small groups in the shade.

Jim dropped his saddle bags on the wooden floor near the front steps, stretched and yawned, and sat down slowly on the porch swing next to Lori. Her face flushed slightly as she brushed hair back from her face. "All packed?"

Jim chuckled, as he stretched an arm behind her along the back of the porch swing. "Yes, it didn't take long. No field work this afternoon?" He squinted down the long house to where Lori's brothers and cousins were sitting in a huddle, plucking lazily at banjos and guitars.

"On a Sunday?" Lori asked, pretending to be shocked. "My parents would take you behind the barn if they caught you working on Sunday." She covered her mouth, trying to stifle a yawn. "No, this is our day to relax. My mother won't even wash dishes until after dark." She pointed at the young men nearby, "They are all trying to learn how to make better sounds out of those things."

"Hmm," Jim said, "takes time. I used to play a guitar but I don't have one now. I think I hit someone with it on the train and it didn't sound as good with a huge hole in the back of it." He grinned at her. "We break a lot of stuff on that train."

"I bet you do," Lori laughed, "including hearts." She touched the end of his nose. "I hope Malinda doesn't find out you were here. More broken hearts."

"I won't tell her if you don't," he said, winking, "I don't need secretaries fighting over me at headquarters. Richmond doesn't like us going on dates in case people do have angry break-ups. But we do anyway, we just keep it light, as friends." He paused as Tommy burst around the corner of the yard, with the big black fluffy dog at his heels. He raced up the steps and jumped onto the swing. Jim was ready and had braced his feet, only letting the swing move slightly. "Who's chasing you?"

"There's a man coming and he wouldn't tell me who he was or why he was coming," Tommy blurted out. "Sam barked at him too but he just said he was delivering a document," the child said, speaking slowly to pronounce the last word. "Mom, I bet it's from your secret job from your secret boss."

Lori stole a glance over the boy's head toward Jim, "could be," she said, wrapping her arms around the boy. "Can you tell Jim what we always say?"

Tommy twisted on the bench seat to look up at Jim, "Moms might leave but they always come back," he said, "and she does important work." He nodded, to emphasize his point, but then a worried look came to his face, "does my mom do secret work? Like catch bad guys?"

Lori gave Jim a hard look from behind the child, as Jim took a deep breath, "Tommy, all Moms do important and difficult work, whether they are at home or elsewhere. Your grandmother feeds this large family every day. And your mother, whatever she does, here or elsewhere, does important work. Colonel Richmond wouldn't ask her back and help him if she didn't accomplish whatever task he assigns her."

"Speaking of tasks," Lori said, nodding toward the road.

A man riding slowly on a dark brown horse approached the house. He seemed to be wearing a uniform, when he was farther away, but as he approached, the cloth was a plain blue suit with gold buttons. A very non-descript suit of a government assistant, much like Colonel Richmond's suit. The man stopped the horse a few yards out and dismounted. He dug into a saddlebag and pulled out a white envelope. He turned and marched stiffly to the steps, holding the envelope out.

"Miss Lori," he announced, clearing his throat. "From the Colonel, ma'am." He voice broke again as his face blushed in the bright sunlight. "I was instructed to away your response." He awkwardly stepped forward as Lori rose from the swinging bench. "If it is convenient for you, ma'am," he repeated, clearing his throat again.

"Thank you, Charles," Lori said, taking the envelope. "I am sure I can give you an answer." She stepped back to open the envelope and Jim stood, walking forward into the sunlight, curious.

"Oh, sir," the man said, "Forgive me, sir, I didn't see you there, sir." The man stopped talking and stood frozen in a salute.

Jim growled and shook his head, "I'm not in uniform, Charles. You don't salute people in civilian clothing." His voice was low, "try to remember that. You could encounter me when I am undercover."

"Yes, sir," Charles said, stuttering now, "are you undercover now, sir?"

Jim blinked, staring at him, "no, not today," he growled through clenched teeth.

Lori stepped between the two men, "Charles, please tell the Colonel that I will be returning this evening with Mr. West. Thank you for bringing this letter to me." Charles nodded to Lori, giving her a short bow and then turned to Jim, starting to salute. He snapped his arm behind his back and turned quickly, almost running to the horse. He mounted and hurried his horse back down the street.

"Poor Charles," Lori said, "He can barely deliver a letter. He probably forgot my response already."

"You can feel sorry for him if I break his arm," Jim growled, glaring at the man's back as he faded between the trees. "Saluting me, or Artie, when we aren't in uniform could be very dangerous."

"When was the last time you were in uniform?" Lori handed him the letter and returned to the bench. "You guessed it mister," she said to Tommy, "So I am riding back to Washington this afternoon with Jim. But I will be back in a few days." She hugged the boy tightly and picked him up. "You can help me pack by traveling bag." She walked past Jim as he was folding the letter.

"Richmond writes your "orders" differently than mine," he chuckled, "he never writes 'Please come right away, if you can'…must be nice. You need to show this to Artie, he would find it amusing." He held the door open for Lori and followed her back inside. "Can I help you pack too?"

"No," Lori called out over her shoulder, "but you can carry my bag when I'm done."

tbc


	3. Chapter 3 From Bad to Worse

Chapter 3. From Bad to Worse

]

[

"Mornin', James," Cobb said, squinting into the evening sunlight. He pulled his pipe from his mouth and waved it toward the engine, "all fired up. Not sure when Artemus said you all wanted to leave."

Jim slid from his horse and nodded, "thanks for getting her ready. Is Artemus inside? I want to head out to…" He paused as Cobb should his head. "Isn't Artemus here? We were planning on leaving on Sunday night."

Cobb pulled a note from his vest pocket and opened it, squinting. "Received this telegram yesterday. It says to get the train running and he would be back soon." He shrugged, handing the note to Jim, "came from a runner from that headquarters building. I thought he meant yesterday so I heated up the boiler. But he never showed so I kept it going today too."

Jim crumpled the note in his fist, "so no one's been here at all?" He growled under his breath as he pulled his horse forward and reached up to the saddle horn.

"Only visitor has been that Mrs. Pike," Cobb said, chuckling, "she brought that little cat of yours back. Put it inside yesterday." He tapped the pipe against his teeth, "I think that was before I got that ole note." He shrugged again, "well, anyway, don't make no difference. Boiler is hot but we don't have any schedule with the track yet."

"See if you can schedule us to be gone by midnight," Jim said, hauling himself back into his saddle. He threw a look over his shoulder at Lori, who had been listening quietly from nearby, before nodding to Cobb. "I'll be back soon with my partner. I think I know where he is."

Lori snorted and moved her horse forward, moving toward the city. Jim sighed and followed her.

[

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On the other side of the city….

[

]

"We returned yesterday," Christian said, as she looked from Jim to Lori. The sun was low in the sky and the rays of light were slanting through the windows in the upstairs apartment. Smells of Italian spices and tomato sauce floated up from the restaurant below. The dark haired girl rubbed her hands up and down her arms as a chill rain down her spine. "He said he was going to the train. He was stopping at Headquarters first and then going on. He had his bags with him and…" Her voice rose as finally caught in her throat. Her hands flew to her face, "oh, he must be on the train. Maybe Cobb just didn't see him."

Jim stepped forward to put his right hand on her shoulder, squeezing it. "Calm down," he said quietly, "I didn't just spend the summer of hell on a whaling ship to lose my partner in the streets of Washington. He's around somewhere. I'll track him down." He paused, his blue eyes staring hard into her's. "Where did he say he was going first when he left?"

"Headquarters," Christian whispered, a s she held his gaze.

"And you had arrived in a carriage from the train station." Jim thought a minute, "did he get a new carriage or was he using the same one?"

Christian blinked, thinking, "no, the same one. He asked the driver to wait. And his bags were still on it. He only stayed here for a moment." She smiled, "we returned later than planned and he wanted to get back to the train. He said he was meeting you Saturday night but…" she paused, "…but you didn't? Where were you?"

Jim let go of her and turned away, ripping his hat off his head. "I was running late too. We just got back to Washington." He looked across the room at Lori, who was again standing behind him, listening. Her bags were on the couch and she was watching him closely. He nodded to them both, "I'm going to Headquarters, follow if you want."

"I'll saddle my horse and meet you there," Christian said, moving out the door behind him. Lori followed more slowly, pausing to lock the door behind them. They all hurried down the stairs, Jim and Lori going directly to their horses as Christian disappeared to the back of the building.

Jim climbed into his saddle, and paused as Lori put her hand on his leg. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have kept you at my parent's house overnight. You go on, we will meet you at Headquarters. If no one is there, they might be at Richmond's house. We often meet him there."

Jim nodded, squeezing her fingers. "If I go on to Richmond's before you get to Headquarters, I'll leave a message for you. Don't get left behind." He spun the horse away and raced down the city street.

]

[

At Headquarters…

]

[

"But he has been missing for days now," Dorothy Pike sat in a leather chair in front of Richmond's desk, holding a flowered cloth handkerchief in front of her mouth. Tears rolled down here face. "I know you say not to worry, but with all of these missing agents now, and he isn't on a case for you…"

"Now, Dorothy, I'm sorry you are distressed," Richmond said quietly, sitting in the chair opposite her, "I won't tell you that everything is ok. I will admit I'm worried. But something will change soon. Something has to eventually happen." He glanced at Steve, Jeremy's young new partner, who was pacing along the side wall, his eyes staring out of the window as he passed it. "And I am worried now about Celeste," he said quietly, nodding toward the office door. "If I start losing secretaries too, well I just don't know. Just as I think I have a pattern figured out, and possibly a reason, something odd happens to alter the pattern."

Melinda, sitting next to Jeremy's wife, cleared her throat, "we won't know officially that she is missing until we receive an answer to the telegram to her parents. She wouldn't be the first secretary to run screaming from this job."

Richmond nodded, "we will know more soon which will help us figure out about Jeremy." The floor creaked and the office door, already ajar, swung fully open. Richmond looked up as everyone turned to look at the doorway. "James, please come in. We could certainly use your help. Is Artemus with you?"

Jim walked slowly into the room, removing his hat. He looked from Richmond to Jeremy's wife, then to Melinda and finally across the room to Steve. The young man's face was flushed and Mrs. Pike's face with streaked with tears. Melinda's eyes stayed down turned onto her note pad and she was chewing on the end of a pencil.

Jim took a deep breath and stepped to the large desk, leaning against it. "No, sir," he said quietly, "Artemus isn't with me." He waited for Richmond to stand and move behind his desk. There was an odd stillness in the room, only broken by an occasional snuffle of Jeremy's wife. "What's happened?"

Richmond sat at his desk and pulled a piece of paper on it. "I, unfortunately, had to lengthen my list…again. Jeremy disappeared between his home and this office a few days ago. Yesterday, Celeste disappeared, in the middle of the day." He looked up at Jim, "you know I just start to figure out this pattern and then something changes. Celeste missing… it just doesn't fit in."

Jim looked over at Melinda, "but you sent a telegram to her family? To see if she's with them?" Melinda nodded. "When did she leave?"

"Yesterday, with Artemus," that's why we thought maybe she went home. They were going to the bank down the street together and…well, neither came back here. We assumed Artemus decided to continue on to the train, of course, and she went home."

"Wait," Jim interrupted, "Artemus was here yesterday?" He stopped as Lori and Christian appeared in the open doorway. "You're just in time," he said, glancing at them, and then looked back to Melinda, "go on, please."

"Artemus came in just before noon. He spoke with many of us," she said, "he was going to talk to Colonel Richmond but the Colonel was out to a meeting. While he waited, Celeste came down and said she was going to the bank. He said he also needed to go to the bank so he offered to go with her."

"And they didn't come back?" Jim said, incredulous. "In the middle of the day, in the middle of the city, they just didn't come back?" He sighed, thinking out loud, "did they get to the bank? Did anyone check?"

"Of course we checked," Steve snapped, irritated "We have been looking for Jer and now Celeste. Do you think we just sit around and wait to see who's next?"

Jim opened his mouth to argue but stopped, seeing the fear and frustration in the faces around the small office. "I'm sorry, I'm just coming into the middle of this. I don't know what's happened and what needs to happen next either. But it seems like we should be doing something proactive, not just being reactive. We need to start controlling what's going on."

"We don't know what's going on," Richmond said slowly, trying to calm Jim and Steve. "Why would Celeste be taken? She isn't an agent."

"She was probably taken because she was with Artemus," Jim said, "it must have happened when they were together. How, I don't know, just walking down the street a few blocks but…"

Melinda interrupted, "Celeste wouldn't walk to the bank. She had new shoes that were making her feet sore. And the dust on the street would get her dress all dirty too. Especially all that lace she wears." She nodded, "no, they must have taken a carriage."

"And Jer?" He walked to Jeremy's wife and slowly lowered to one knee in front of her. "Dorothy, I know Jer usually rides his horse but I remember he had injured his bad knee the other day. Was he using a carriage?" She nodded, choking back sobs. He squeezed her hand and stood up. "We still have the pattern. An agent, using a carriage, in this city, disappears. It's simple to take someone away in a carriage. I think Celeste got grabbed because she was with Artemus. Everyone else has been an agent." He walked back to Richmond's desk as the Colonel picked up his pencil. He watched the older man write his partner's name on the list of missing people; all close friends and coworkers. "May I see that, sir?" He took the list, his eyes moving over the first few names.

"I was hoping it wouldn't get that long," Richmond said, "it got a little shorter when you and Artemus returned. And now I am writing his name a second time." He twisted the pencil nervously in his fingertips.

"Sir, I don't know all these agents as well as I probably should," Jim said, "I think I've only seen a few of them at our annual New Year's party. But each agent is one of a pair, correct?" Richmond nodded, "It seems to me that someone is separating each pair of agents." Richmond nodded again. "Maybe someone thinks we can't do our job without our partners, we can't recombine and continue."

"Maybe it is assumed we would at least move slower?" Richmond agreed. "A military move: remove soldiers, especially leaders and experienced men, and the rest will have to reorganize, chose another leader."

Jim handed the list back, "are these men considered the more experienced in each pair?" He pointed to names, "Jer is senior to Steve but Artemus isn't too me. I am not familiar with these others."

Richmond glanced down the list, shaking his head, "some are and some aren't."

"Not everyone would know that," Lori said, "and might just to be taking the older men? Jer is older and so is Artemus."

"True," Jim agreed, "the person behind this may not be familiar with the agents, beyond their appearances."

"This list contains the names of all my older agents," Richmond said, "for each pair. But," he said, tiredly, setting the paper back onto his desk, "I don't see how that helps us."

Jim squeezed his boss's shoulder, "maybe not now but it might later." He glanced at Melinda, and nodded toward the older woman.

Melinda stood slowly, leaning close to Jeremy's wife, "why don't I help you home. There will be lots of planning talk now. Everything will be just fine but you need to rest. We wouldn't want you to be sick with worry." The older woman stood slowly, as Colonel Richmond came to her other side. He walked them to the door in the outer office and then returned to his chair behind the desk.

Jim looked around the room, "All right, I was gone at the beginning of this. Why don't you all fill me in on what happened, from the beginning, and what leads you have looked into?" He looked at Richmond, "and we need to pursue that prison break in New York. I want to know how Voltaire ended up in a state prison."

"You think this is connected with Dr. Loveless then?" Richmond asked, his eyes worried.

"That man is unpredictable," Jim said, "everything is always a new game with him. I wouldn't put it past him to collect people and hold them for some reason. None of these missing agents have been found murdered so I am assuming they are still alive. And Loveless thinks the pairing of agents is imperative to our work. He has often said he doesn't think Artemis or I could work without the other. He might over estimate our entire system."

Jim sat in a leather chair, while Steve continued to pace by the far window. Lori and Christian also found chairs as Richmond opened a large folder on his desk. He shuffled papers, moving one to the top of the stack. "All right, Jim, this actually started before you left but I just didn't' know it yet."

]

[

The next evening…

]

[

"This may take more than one try," Jim whispered to Lori. The dim light flickered across the blonde's pale cheeks. Her grey eyes were the same color as the night, as she stared back at Jim. "Jer, Artie, and Celeste were all taken in the last few days. They may want to wait before they grab anyone else. This started months ago, slowly, but seems to have suddenly increased."

"I hope they're alright," Lori whispered. "And I don't want anything to happen to Richmond. He's been so exhausted with worry from this."

"That's why you're with him," Jim said, stealing a quick glance at the front door of the headquarters building. "They won't know how to handle you. They wont suspect that you're an agent and hopefully won't pay much attention to you."

"So now you call me an agent?" Lori arched an eyebrow at him. "Just when you need a favor," she smirked.

"Just try to act like a normal girl," Jim said sarcastically. "Cry, scream, act confused. And don't beat anyone up. Just keep close to Richmond."

"I'll try not to shoot anyone," Lori snapped, "or maybe I'll make it look like an accident."

Jim looked her body up and down, as her dress moved in the wind, "you don't have a gun hidden in there do you?" Lori grinned. "I told you not to bring a gun," he hissed, "that would look suspicious. Women don't carry guns."

"They hell they don't," Lori laughed quietly, "You just hang around ditzy women. Besides I don't go anywhere without my little friends."

Jim opened his mouth to argue further but the thick, wooden door suddenly swung open and Colonel Richmond appeared. He was wearing his usual deep blue coat, buttoned to his chin. He shut the door behind him and nodded to Jim. Lori quickly stepped to his side, taking his left elbow. "I'm ready," he said softly, "Should we just start walking?"

Jim nodded, staying in the shadows. "I'll follow at a distance on my horse. Steve is farther ahead on his horse. Christian is around…somewhere…" He looked down the road, squinting at the flickering gaslights. "Just keep moving south, toward the theaters and restaurants. Someone will see you, eventually. But, if not tonight, we'll just have to keep trying."

Colonel Richmond nodded, giving Jim a weak smile. "I used to like fishing," he whispered, "but now I know how the bait feels."

"Just remember," Jim said, "your job is to stand still and act surprised. My job is to catch the bad guy. Steve is in the background in case others are watching from the side lines. So just don't move, if you do get offered a ride. Don't get in the carriage. Just stall and I will be there to pick them up. We want to question the driver or follow them, not lose you two."

Richmond nodded and took a deep breath. He led Lori down the long stairway of granite steps. They turned left and began walking. Jim darted down the back stairway into the shadowed side alley for his horse.

"It's difficult to act natural in this situation," Lori said, smiling and nodding to people as they passed them on the crowded streets. "And it's too crowded here. If a carriage stopped, anyone might try to get in."

"Yes, agreed," Richmond said, "the theater must have just finished a show." He bumped into another couple and he felt Lori tense next to him. "I find myself suspecting everyone tonight." They walked farther down the street, past a large restaurant. The crowds began to thin as most of the people hurried into various doorways to disappear inside. The farther they walked the fewer street lights were near too. Soon the empty street became much darker ahead.

"This is enough to give anyone a case of nerves," Lori whispered, almost to herself. "I hope Jim and Steve are following. Christian should be in the shadows nearby too. She is very good at staying out of sight. I wish it would happen tonight thought, I don't need to do this again."

Richmond reached over the squeeze her hand, "makes me wonder how James and Artemus, and the other agents, manage to accomplish the tasks I send them out to do. This will make me think twice in the future if…"

"Good evening, sir," a man said from an alley. The dark clothing had hidden the figure in the shadows. "Would you have a light?" The man held out a pipe. "This old pipe of mine needs a good cleaning and won't stay lit."

"It's this damp night air," Richmond said, releasing his arm from Lori. He stepped forward, putting his right hand in his pocket. "I think I have a matchstick for …"

The man lowered the pipe and raised a small revolver, pointing it at Lori. "Make a sound and the pretty lady gets it." Richmond's eyes widened in surprise and he froze. "Step closer, lass, we wouldn't want you to get separated from your friend." Lori stepped backwards a step, her hands going to her face as if in panic. "I said closer, you nitwit!" The man jumped forward and grabbed her wrist, dropping his pipe to the cobblestones. He dragged her closer to Richmond, into the shadows. He released her and put his fingers in his lips, making a shrill whistle.

"I hear ya," a deep voice called out, as the creak of a carriage sounded from deeper down the dark alley. A team of black horses passed them and the black carriage stopped next to Lori's elbow. "I don't think whistling is considered being quiet, you idiot," the man growled.

The first man ripped open the small door, grumbling under his breath. "It ain't odd to hear a man whistle. Ain't no one going to suspect anything," he argued. He turned to Lori, giving her a mocking, half bow. "Lady, your carriage. We wouldn't expect you to walk in this dirty street any farther."

"I don' want to ride in a carriage," Lori said, making her chin quiver and her voice shake. "I want to walk. Why are you accosting us? We have no money! I have no jewelry or valuables!" She tried to back up again but the man grabbed her wrist, pushing her to the carriage doorway.

"Your friend is valuable," the man growled, "and you can come along too. No loose ends!"

Lori twisted away, and turned, as if to run, her eyes searching for her friends. Where was Jim and Christian, she thought. A rough hand grabbed her hair and tore her backwards, almost pulling her off her feet. She cried out in alarm and spun around, just stopping herself from striking out.

"Unhand her," Richmond snapped, stepping closer. He grabbed the man's wrist and tore his hand from Lori's hair. "We aren't going anywhere with you!" He felt a piercing pain in his head and his eyes sight went black. He felt his knees buckle and felt hands on his arms as he toppled.

"No!" Lori shrieked, as Richmond crumpled to the cobblestones. The man in the driver's seat of the carriage held a billy club over his head, ready for a second strike, if needed. "You've killed him!"

"He ain't dead," the man laughed, "but he will be if you two don't cooperate." The man picked the unconscious man up and threw him into the carriage, his body landing on the floor. He turned to Lori, "now get in with your friend or I start shooting. We can be gone before any police show up down on this end of the street. They stay up near the beautiful rich people and don't like to come down this far."

Lori stole one more look around and walked slowly to the carriage doorway. Richmond lay, unmoving, on the floorboards. She took a handful of skirt and stepped into the carriage. She knelt next the the older man, checking for breathing. The door shut behind her and she felt the carriage tip as the man stepped up next to the driver.

"Hold it!" Jim's voice rang out in the darkness. Lori leaped to the window to see Jim on his horse in the street. His revolver was in his hand and it was pointed at the two men. "Don't move! Toss down that gun and climb down or you'll both be shot full of holes." Lori grabbed at the doorknob but it wouldn't turn. She pushed on the small door but it was locked.

"You heard him! Toss down that Derringer. You only have two shots with it and you'd never hit both of us. Give it up!" She turned to look out of the opposite window to see Steve on his horse riding closer from the opposite direction.

Lori picked up her cloth drawstring bag and put her hand inside. She made a fist and punched at the glass facing Steve. Her hand made a thud but the glass didn't break. She punched a second time, feeling her fingers going numb with shock. Shaking her head in disbelief at the window's strength, she pulled her skirt up and grabbed a small revolver tucked into a lace garter around her thigh. She pulled it out and was just pointing it at the glass window when Steve shot his revolver. One of the men on top of the carriage screamed in pain while Steve was lost in a cloud of gunsmoke for an instant. But then he too cried out in pain and fell from his horse to the stone street as another shot rang out.

A second revolver shot came from behind her back. Lori spun and leaped to the other window as a shotgun blast exploded just overhead. Jim's arms flailed out, his shining nickel-plated revolver flying out of his hand, as he toppled over backwards off the stallion. The horse reared and spun, racing down the street after Steve's horse. The carriage leaped forward and moved quickly into the darkness.

Lori's hands covered her face as a scream of terror choked in her throat. It had all happened too quickly for her to react, shoot, or even scream. Steve and Jim both shot and left in the street? She kept seeing Jim fall, over and over again, her eyes...blind to where the carriage was going now. She sank onto the floor next to the unconscious body of Colonel Richmond.

tbc...


	4. Chapter 4 Pursuit

Chapter 4. Pursuit

[

]

"Steve?" Christian ran to the young blond agent that was on the ground. He was holding a hand to his left thigh and rolling in pain. "Steve, wait," she gasped again, dropping to her knees next to him. "Stop moving and let me help you."

"No," he gasped, "Jim. You need to help Jim." He tried to look around her toward Jim's body.

"I can't," Christian gasped. "He's dead. He's got to be." She pulled a handkerchief from her neck and held it against his wound. "Now stop moving so I can stop this bleeding."

"He can't be," Steve said, his voice breaking. "Jim can't be dead. He can't be. He always wears that bullet proof vest."

"He took a face full of buckshot," Christian cried, tears streaming down her face. She unhooked Steve's belt and pulled the length of leather from his pants. She wrapped it around his thigh, holding the cloth to the bloody hole. She pulled the leather tight, making an awkward knot

"He's moving," Steve gasped, struggling to sit up. "Look! He isn't dead."

Christian turned to see Jim rolling slowly over to his stomach. He struggled to push himself up with his hands. "Jim!" She leapt to her feet and hurried to his side. Grabbing an arm, she helped him move to his knees.

"Richmond?" Jim gasped.

Christian moved to kneel in front of him, turning his face to the flickering light of the lantern. His face was bleeding on his cheeks and chin where the pellets had cut his skin. Her hands went to his vest and jacket. The material was in shreds, showing the smooth metal of the bullet proof vest underneath. "Oh, thank God," she breathed, feeling faint with relief. "You did have your vest on."

"Where's Richmond," Jim hissed again, his eyes opening in slits. "And Lori? Where…?" He winced in pain as his right hand moved over his chest.

"Gone," Christian whispered, "in that carriage. I didn't know what to do. I wanted to follow them but Steve was hurt. I thought you were dead. If it wasn't for Steve, I would have followed them but…"

"Stop," Jim said, putting a bloody hand on the girl's shoulder. "Just stop." He squinted into the darkness, looking over at Steve. "You alright?" The young agent nodded. He looked back at Christian, "get him to the hospital. I'm going after them." He let out a long whistle into the darkness and was immediately answered by a horse's whinny.

"How?" Christian protested, "you don't know where they went? Besides you need to go to the hospital too. You're bleeding all over your face."

Jim held a hand out as the black horse trotted into the light. He grabbed the stirrup and pulled himself up. Squinting around the dark street, he suddenly leaned over and snatched up his revolver out of the dirt. He turned back to Cristian, "that carriage looked flat black to me. Did you see any markings on it? Anything to make it stand out?"

"No," Christian said. "It's just like all the others. Maybe if you can get near it, Lori will motion to you or signal somehow." She ran a hand over her throat, "oh, I hope Richmond is ok. They hit him so hard on the head. We just have to find them."

Jim swung up into the saddle, "oh, I'll find them eventually. This is just turning into a mess. Life suddenly seemed easier on the damn whaling ship." He tugged at the reins and turned the horse down the road, quickly disappearing into the darkness.

]

[

Later that night…

]

"You aren't moving," the doctor said, her lady-like voice taking a sharp edge, "I think you've had enough excitement out on the street tonight." She tapped the fresh, white cloth wrapped around Steve's upper thigh, "That wound will open up and start bleeding again if you move."

"There is nowhere to go anyway, Steve," Christian said tiredly. Her thin form was barely visible in the dim light of the hospital's hall. "Nowhere to look, at least not until Jim is back."

"Jim's back," his deeper voice said from down the hall. "And I still have no idea where to look." He stepped to the doorway and looked in at Steve. "How you doing?" His eyes went from the wide bandage to the young agent's face. His friend looked very pale as he sat on a hospital exam table.

"Ok, I guess," Steve said weakly, lying back against a pile of pillows. "Maybe we all need a rest and start again tomorrow?"

"You aren't starting anything tomorrow," Doctor Harrison said, washing her hands. She turned to look at Jim, her eyes going from his torn clothing to his face, looking for injuries. "And what about you, James? I hear you were at the same party."

"Hello, Mary. You know me, I hate to miss a party. I think I have a few bits of lead shot that need to be dug out," Jim said slowly, carefully touching a finger to his chin, feeling an odd lump under the skin. His hand came away with fingertips covered in flaking dried blood. "It could have been a lot worse," he sighed.

"That's for sure. I keep seeing you falling off your horse," Christian said, almost too low for him to hear. "Now I know why Artie worries so much. That was bad." She rubbed her finger tips over her eyes.

"Ya," Jim said, shaking his head, "like he doesn't give me gray hairs. I cannot believe he disappeared just down the street from the office after what we've gone through lately." He stepped further into the room and pointed at Steve, while looking at the doctor. "Can you keep him here a few days? I need to run an errand but could use his help later." Steve opened his mouth to speak but Jim hissed at him, "you will just be in my way for this next step. But I really need you at one hundred percent when I get back." Steve nodded and lay back on the bed again.

"I'll keep him secure. Now let's get you cleaned up in another room," the doctor said, walking past Christian. "You shouldn't hang around these men. You'll just get shot or trampled or something."

"The waiting is worse," Christian said, "the not knowing." She looked at Jim as he passed her, "could I be of help in this next step? I don't want to be in the way but…"

Jim paused, obviously thinking. He nodded suddenly, "yes, I could use your help, if you're up to it. Pack your bags for a few days and meet me at the train. We roll out at midnight." The girl nodded and hurried down the hall to the front door. Jim continued to follow the doctor into the next exam room, "thank you for patching Steve up. I think that's the first time he's been shot."

"I hope it's the last," she said, pointing to a table." So you fell off a horse and then you were shot with a shotgun?" She tsked at him, shaking her head.

Jim stepped onto the table rail near the floor and, twisting, sat on the edge of the table. "No," he grinned, "I was shot with a shotgun and then fell off my horse." He laughed as she rolled her eyes. "At least my horse wasn't injured." He watched as she unrolled a length of cloth bandage and picked up a set of tweezers. "I should bring more bandages back to the train. If I stock up on wound supplies, maybe I won't need them."

"Always need what you don't have?" The doctor raised one eye brown at him, "I guess that's a theory on how to keep from being injured. I can send you home with a few rolls and some thread. Can you remove a bullet or stitch a wound shut?"

"Yes," Jim said, sighing tiredly, "learned in the war; tourniquets for bullet holes, saber cuts, and everything in between. Even adjusting medication for a person's weight," he grinned, "guessing someone's weight was the most difficult part to learn. If you guess wrong, people get very upset."

"I bet," she chuckled, "now stop talking so I can remove these pellets." She touched his chin and looked closely. Picking up a piece of cloth and a small bottle, she damped the material. "This may sting a bit but you are a rough and tumble guy so you probably won't even feel it." She touched the cloth to his chin, wiping away the dried blood, and noticed his jaw clench and his hands grip the edge of the cushioned bench, but he didn't move. "There is something in there," she muttered, picking up the tweezers again. A quick poke into the hole and a small, silver pellet came out. She held it out to him.

"That's interesting," Jim muttered, taking it from her. He rolled it in his fingertips and then put it in his pocket. "Keep going, there's more in there. But please keep handing them to me as we go."

"Make a necklace for a pretty girl?" She turned his chin to the other side, "you may even have enough for matching earrings." Jim growled deep in his throat but didn't move as she worked.

[

]

Later that night at the train...

[

]

Jim opened the ornate door of the train and stepped inside. The gas lamps were lit throwing their flickering light over the people inside. Cobb was standing in the living room while Christian sat on the long couch. They both turned to him as he entered.

"Good to see you again, Jim," Cobb said quietly, his sharp eyes looking over Jim's bandaged face and tattered clothing. "The young missus was telling me what happened. She made it sound unique but I assured her it was the routine for you." He put his pipe back in his teeth and grinned.

Jim gave him a tired grin back, "it sure seems that way, Cobb. Are we ready to pull out tonight?"

"Midnight, sharp," the older man said, the pipe rattling off his teeth. "I fed the animals, big and small, but I'll get your horse now too, before we go." He walked to the door as Jim moved to the cabinet beyond the dining room table.

"Thanks, Cobb," Jim said, as he picked up a whiskey bottle from the glass case. "It won't be long to New York. You may need to wake me when we arrive."

"Will do," the old man said as he walked out of the door.

Christian stood and stepped quietly to the table. She slid into a chair, silently, her hands twisting nervously. "How are you feeling?" She watched as Jim moved to the opposite chair.

"Oh, I'm all right," Jim said, sipping from the glass. "Please, have a drink if you like. There is wine in the case too. I'm afraid I'm too tired to be a good host." Christen smiled and shook her head no. "Seems so quiet when Artie isn't here," Jim said, trying to give Christian a tired grin. He took another sip and looked around the room, under the table and chairs. "And where is that cat? Sophie?" He gave a short whistle. "Sophie?"

"I haven't seen her," Christian said, "Cobb said he fed her. She's probably sleeping somewhere."

"Sophie does love a cat nap," he said, putting his drink down. He put his hand in an inner pocket and pulled out a handful of shotgun pellets. "This is what the good doctor dug out of my face." He rolled them on the table, counting them. "I have a few in my vest too I need to dig out."

"Why did you save them," Christian asked, staring at the small silver pellets.

Jim rolled them on the table cloth, "don't they look odd to you?" Jim looked up at her. "These are the size someone would use to shoot a bird, like a dove, for hunting food." He paused, hearing the thump of little feet. "Well, here's my girl. Come here, Sophie," he said, reaching a hand down to the carpet. The cat eagerly ran to his fingers and he scooped her up in his palm. He held her against his chest, patting her head. "How are you? Did you miss me?"

"Meow," the kitten said, licking his fingers. She squirmed around and sniffed at his chin and bandages. A little paw reached up and caught a bandage, pulling at it.

"Owe, owe," Jim laughed, pulling at the paw. "That's a little sore. " He put the kitten down on the tablecloth and dropped into a chair. "Ok, Sophie, you can help too. Look at these." He pushed the pellets with his finger. "Don't these seem too small to you for hunting men?"

"You almost sound disappointed," Christian said, watching him.

"I'm suspicious," Jim said, "thankful but still suspicious. Shot shells are made with all sorts of different sizes depending on the game, and even solid slugs. This is almost the smallest made."

"Yet it still knocked you off your horse," Christian countered.

"Yes, it still has a blast and the pellets would have injured me more if I didn't have my vest on," Jim continued, as he watched Sophie paw at the pellets. "But usually the pellets are larger and cause more injury, can even go through this vest if large enough." He looked back at the girl, "have you ever made shot shells?" She shook her head no. "Well I don't feel up to making any tonight but I can take one apart easy enough." He turned to open a drawer behind him. He removed a box and opened it on the table, dumping out a couple of brass shells with paper tube sides. "The paper patch at the end can be removed to expose the pellets and leave the powder inside intact below the wad." He pulled at the paper, making an opening, and poured pellets onto the tablecloth.

"Meow", Sophie said, batting at the much larger pellets.

"See the difference," Jim said, as Christian leaned closer, "much larger."

"But much fewer inside then," she said, "this is what you always use? If you had been hit in the face with these, you would have had more serious injuries, lost an eye, or…"

"Let's just stop with that," Jim snorted. He leaned back and sipped from his glass, watching Sophie dance over the tablecloth, scattering pellets onto the floor. He picked up the open shot shell and the box, putting them back in the drawer behind him. "Well I need to go to bed and sleep. You can use Artie's room. He wouldn't mind. Just be careful nothing falls on you from his overstuffed cupboards. We've had avalanches in that room." Christian smiled but her eyes were filled with tears. "He's alright, don't worry too much. These," he said, rolling a finger over the small pellets, "I'm not sure but I just have a feeling." He stood slowly, "we'll know more tomorrow." He picked up Sophie and moved to the ornate door, locking it.

"Locking a glass door?" Christian smiled, standing. "Or is it unbreakable glass?"

"No," Jim sighed, "it's made of very breakable glass and wood as strong as paper machete. But it keeps out some people. And if broken, does make a loud noise to alert me. Besides, we'll be moving soon. I'll see you in the morning." He walked down the hall, yawning, and moved into his bedroom. He tossed the cat onto his bed and moved to a wash basin. He peeled off his jacket and then the bullet proof vest, pausing to inspect the inside. The surface was pushed inside toward his skin. "Well I should hammer that flat again tomorrow but it did its job tonight."

"Meow", Sophie said, reaching a paw at the pieces of torn cloth.

Jim tossed it onto the bed, watching the kitten attack it. "Remove that cloth for me, would you? Easier to fix it." He pulled off his shirt, noticing blood stains on the color. "Hmph, one more ruined shirt to add to the collection." He poured water into the ceramic bowl out of the matching pitcher and splashed water on his face. He picked up a washcloth and dipped it into the water and grabbed a bar of soap. He rubbed the soap onto his neck and chest, making a fine lather. "Maybe I should give you a bath, fuzzy. I bet Cobb hasn't." He turned to watch the kitten grab a long strip of cloth and drag it across the bedspread, tripping on the lose strings, to disappear underneath the pillows. "Don't hide things under my pillows," Jim laughed, watching the tiny face, without the bits of cloth, reappear from under the pillowcase.

He turned back to the mirror, picking up the washcloth and wiped the soap off, careful to avoid the bandages. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off his boots, then stood to remove the rest of his clothing. He climbed into the bed, feeling the cool sheets against his skin.

"Meow," Sophie said, crawling to her usual spot on his chest under his skin. "I could sleep for a week. I hope Artie and the others are as comfortable as me, wherever they are." He ran his hand along the kitten's soft fur. "Damn it, Artemus, you had better be alright." He finally drifted off to sleep.

]

[

Early the next morning….

]

"Good morning," Jim said as Christian appeared in the doorway of the galley. "I didn't hear you get up this morning," The dark haired girl blinked and held a hand to shield her eyes from the bright sunlight slanting low in the window. "Grab a quick breakfast and get ready to head out."

"Are we in New York now? It looks the same as in Washington," she said, leaning over to look out the window. "I guess all rail yards look the same.

"They do in the east," Jim said, making a sandwich on the counter. "Out west they aren't as large, unless it's a big city like San Francisco. I think Pennsylvania is the largest we visit." He smeared yellow mustard on thick break and added pieces of cooked chicken. "The train will be kept hot; I don't think we'll be here long. I have sent a message to the prison to let the warden know I want to meet with him."

Christian turned back to the room, "you'll have to take Lori to Pennsylvania to see the trains. She loves train and.." Her voice broke, and her hands went to her face. He body went stiff as she tried to control herself.

"Hey," Jim said, putting a hand on her shoulder, "Everyone is fine. Trust me."

"How do you know," she whispered through her fingers. Her cobalt blue eyes opened wide, filled with tears. "You can't be sure."

"I showed you the pellets in the shot shell last night," Jim said, staring at her. He removed his hand and shrugged, "well know more today. You'll just have to trust me. Now make a sandwich and let's get going." He looked at her clothing, his eyes going up and down her black shirt and pants, "Except we need to do something about your outfit. You can't walk around New York like that." He sighed and shook his head. "Make a sandwich and we'll go through Artie's large wardrobe. He has dresses in there, somewhere, for guests and women who help us occasionally."

Christian quickly made a sandwich, her eyes darting over to the coffee pot. "No coffee this morning?"

"No time," Jim said, "besides my coffee is terrible. I can barely drink it. Artie says it's better for cleaning rust off old tools." He grinned as he put the meat and bread back into the ice box. "I never seem to add enough water or the right amount of grounds." He walked down the hall toward his partner's room as Christian followed, carrying her breakfast.

"I don't know if I would fit in anything," she said, worriedly, following Jim into the small room. "Why is this room so much smaller than your room? I would have thought they were the same size."

"We walled off part of it for a storage room at the end of the car," Jim said. "He didn't mind, at the time, but now he has collected so much stuff." He paused, hands on hips, to look around the room. He pointed at a closet door, "In there, hopefully. And the clothes all have adjustments inside that can loosen or tighten them at the waist. We get all sizes."

Jim opened the closet and began handing out dresses, passing some to Christian. She held them up to herself, turning each one to a mirror. "They are all really nice. I had no idea these were all in there. So many too." Jim grumbled as he dug deeper, pulling out one more deep blue dress.

"Last one," Jim said, handing it to her. He turned to watch her. "That would be good for today. But try them on, shove the rest back in there. I'm going to get ready." He walked out of the room, with a "Be ready in five," as he went to his own room.

"Meow", Sophie said as she followed him in. She zoomed ahead of him as he walk, knocking into the bullet proof vest on the floor. It tipped over with a thud and she scampered under the bed in fright.

"You shouldn't be scared of that, Sophie," Jim said, kneeling down to pick it up and look under the bed. The kitten was sitting behind a leg of the frame lapping her paws. "I guess you aren't too scared," he laughed, watching her. "I have to go out for a bit but I'll be back soon." The kitten looked at him, and then lay down, wrapping the fluffy tail around her face. "You just have your mid-morning nap." He laughed again and stood back up. He picked up the leather straps for the Derringer and pulled it onto his right arm and then fit the small handgun in place. He picked up his dark blue traveling coat and checked for the knife in the back neck pocket and the lock pick behind the lapel. He pulled it on over his white shirt. He picked up the gun belt and holster, wrapping it around his waist, and dropped the hand gun in place. He tied the thin leather strap around his leg and grabbed up his hat. "All right, free loader, I'll be back."

He stepped into the hall and moved to the living room. He paused, hearing a door shut behind him. Turning, he watched Christian enter the room. The change caught him by surprise, "well you look different. Much more appropriate." He looked at the dress, which appeared to fit perfectly. Her hair was piled in a long twist on the back of her head. Small earrings hung from her ears.

"I hope Artemus won't mind," she said, a hand going to an earlobe. "I noticed a box of jewelry. With my hair up it just seemed better…"

"I'm sure he would be happy you used them," Jim said, knowing there were boxes of fake jewelry squirreled away everywhere on the train for various reasons, "Especially if it helps find him and the others." He turned, looking outside out the window. "I'm waiting for a carriage Cobb sent for."

"If I may summarize," Christian said, "we are going to the prison where Voltaire was being held to try to determine why he was sent there and how he escaped? And you think this is connected to their disappearance?"

"Yes," Jim said, sighing, "there should be transfer orders with the name of who ordered it. And how he escaped, which probably wasn't that difficult from this prison. It's a low level, state prison. Not the Federal one he was held in. There has to be something bizarre going on and combined with the disappearances, which is also bizarre. These two situations must be connected. Hopefully it will point us in some direction."

Christian nodded, her hands twisting together. "I'm not sure how I will be able to help."

"Just listen and keep your eyes open," Jim said, "hang back a couple steps. Maybe someone will speak to you or pass you a note. Strange things happen and I can't see everything." He nodded to the window as the carriage rattled up, moving to open the door for her, "just do not leave my side. I don't want to have to look for you too." The girl nodded and walked outside. Jim walked out behind her and they moved quickly to the carriage.

]

[

At the State prison...

]

A guard held the door open for Christian as she, followed by Jim, walked into the front door of the prison. The carriage pulled away but moved to a large area of shade near a tall hedge, waiting for their return trip to the train yard.

Another man, in a black suit with deep blue pin striping, stood just inside the door. I am Officer Gerard", the man said, tipping his hat to Christian, as his eyes moved over her slender form. He turned to Jim, "do you have an appointment, sir?"

"I do," Jim said, handing a card to the guard, "James West, of the Secret Service. I am here to speak to the warden about the recent loss of a prisoner."

The guard handed the card back, his attitude becoming even more stiff, "sir, yes, you must be part of the Federal investigation. We were told more would come. I will lead you to the warden's office myself. This way, please." He turned and started to walk down a long hall.

Jim waved a hand to Christian to walk first. He stepped behind her, his eyes looking everywhere with a practiced ease. He noted the guards stationed in various locations in the hallways as they moved through the building, many doors to additional hallways, even an occasional boarded up windows. He looked up to the ceilings, noting the peeling paint. He shook his head, not surprised at the condition of an obviously poorly funded state prison.

"Almost there," Gerard said, holding another door for them. "Just up those stairs, miss." He nodded to Christian as she moved past, but then stopped Jim, "excuse me but we just don't get a lot of women in here, since it's a men's prison. But now two pretty ladies in the past few weeks."

"Another lady was here visiting recently?" Jim asked, curious and desperate for any clue.

"The warden will tell you," he said. He moved to open the door at the top of the stairs, leaning past Christian on the landing, "Miss, straight ahead now." He waited for Jim to move into the upstairs hallway. "The end of the hall," he said, hurrying forward to hold the last door. "Inside, please, and I will speak with the warden. Please have a seat, miss."

Christian sat on the edge of a small divan, as Jim moved to a window. He looked down at the exercise yard, noting the location of the guards and the prisoners. He turned as an older man came out from the inner officer.

"Mr. West?" The older man walked forward, eagerly holding his hand out. He was shorter than Jim, slightly pudgy, with a round face and huge smile. "Thank you for coming, sir, thank you." They shook and Jim held a hand out to Christian as she rose from the couch.

"My assistant, Miss Shepard," he said. The warden took her outstretched hand and gave her a short bow. "Miss Shepard." He stepped back and gave Jim a short bow, "I am Warden Mosely, the leader of this humble place. And you are here to inquire of this missing prisoner? Please step into my office." He turned and led them into the inner room and shut the door.

"The missing prisoner?" Jim asked slowly, "or the escaped prisoner?"

The man moved behind a large desk and sat, waving them to two chairs. "Excuse my modest accommodations. Yes," he nodded, "escaped would be a more accurate word." He nodded, sighing, as a look of exhaustion flickered over his face. "And now you are here to ask even more questions. I still have no answers."

Jim took a deep breath, "well let's review from the beginning and maybe we can come to answers together. This looks like a well-run facility and I am sure this was a special case."

The man nodded eagerly, "yes, the men are happy here. I will show you some of our work when we are done here."

Jim nodded, glad to see the man becoming more comfortable around him. Comfort equaled conversation, usually. "There must have been a request of transfer when this prisoner, Voltair, arrived? Or did you know ahead of time?"

"No, no," the man said, "or I mean yes, actually. The man arrived unexpectedly with a group of soldiers. He had a letter of introduction almost, or reason of transfer. It was a remarkable letter so I have saved it. I thought it would be the beginning of a new era for my exercise program. He seemed so content with it and…"

Jim held up a hand, "wait, do you still have this letter? Let's start with that." He waited while the man opened drawers, grumbling about putting it somewhere. Soon a letter appeared and he handed it over.

"You see the warden in that prison had read my paper about my exercise program", he said, pointing to the flowing cursive. "That is the reason he was sent. Oh he was a big fellow, he would have been wonderful. And then," he paused, throwing up his hands.

"This letter," Jim said, turning it over to look at the back and holding it up to the sunlight, "no letter head and no official watermarks. Didn't you think it was odd to get such an informal letter?" Jim watched as the man shrugged silently. He turned back to quickly scan the words, which seemed to be congratulations about a prisoner exercise program and how this prisoner would be perfect for the job. His eyes reached the official signature and his heart skipped a beat. He sat up straighter and stared hard at the warden. "Did you also find it odd that the name of the signature was not the name of a Federal prison warden?"

"Oh, heavens," the man chuckled. "There are so many. I don't know many of them," he added, "I am relatively new at this. I only came here a few months ago but isn't that an interesting name?"

"Yes, very interesting," Jim said, his mouth taking a grim line. He handed the letter to Christian. "Skip to the end. Look familiar?"

"Wait," the warden said, "how did you know this person isn't a Federal warden? Do you know them all through your work?"

"The letter is signed Artemus Gordon," Jim said, his teeth grinding as he tried not to shout. "That is a personal friend of mine and he is not a Federal prison warden. Someone is playing their usual tricks."

"Tricks?" The warden's face had gone white with trepidation at Jim's obvious anger. "I don't understand. How can that letter be written by a friend of yours?"

Jim sighed, sitting back in the chair, tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling, "the letter was not written by my friend. The letter was written by someone else but used my friend's name. Someone who wanted the prisoner, Voltaire, moved from the Federal penitentiary to a state prison so it would be easier to plan an escape. I assume the Federal warden received a similar letter, telling them to move Voltaire here." He suddenly stood, to pace the room, "does no one ever confirm these things? If a letter arrives, not on official letterhead, not signed by someone you know, you should be suspicious."

"Well, the prisoner arrived here," Warden protested, "it's not like I released him, unlike the Federal prison. So if someone is at fault, it's them, not me." He stood also, pulling nervously on the edges of his jacket. "I think you should take this matter up with the other warden."

Jim held a hand out to calm him, "you're correct. I apologize. You received a new prisoner and did not send one away. You had no way to assume he would escape. Could you show me where the escape occurred?"

"Yes, yes, of course," the warden said, returning quickly to his cheerful self now that he was obviously off the hook for a mistake. He walked around the desk, "my dear, if you would like to remain here instead of accompanying us?"

"She would not," Jim said, "she will be safer by my side." He stepped to the door and Christian quickly moved closer, not wanting to be left alone in the office. The warden moved to the hallway and led them farther into the prison.

]

[

Hours later…..

]

"Now before you leave," Warden Mosley, "you must see my program. It's going to be used in every prison throughout the country. Even beyond our borders," the man gushed. "I am writing a report and will be presenting in France soon. I had hired a guard from France to help me learn the language but he was kidnapped during the escape."

Jim had only been half listening the man's voice, as he rattled on, while Christian followed silently a few steps back. She seemed to have sore feet or tired legs and had often stopped to adjust a shoe or rest. Jim had to repeatedly pause to wait for her. Annoyed at her apparent weakness, he wondered why it had seemed important to bring her. The broken bricks were in piles and smaller pieces of bricks were scattered everywhere. Men were working to patch the still gaping hole, adding new bricks to the wall and adhering them together with freshly made concrete. Men moved up and down the hall with tools and more supplies. A few stopped to speak to Christian, one even dropping tools to take her hand and help her down the hallway. Jim turned to look out a window, wondering for the hundredth time what Artie saw in this girl. At least Lori could walk down a hallway.

"Do you think he might be dead?" the warden asked.

"Who," Jim said, stopping to look at the still broken wall's ragged edge, while waiting again from Christian to catch up. He pulled his watch from his vest, checking the time. The train would be waiting but they weren't scheduled to use the track for hours yet.

"The guard who was kidnapped during the escape," Mosely repeated. He was twisting his hands together in obvious fear. "He was a good man, very patient, except that he complained about the low pay. That's why I was paying him a little extra for the French speaking lessons."

Jim turned to face the warden, "wait, none of this was written in your report. A guard was kidnapped during the escape? Or did he chase after them and may have been killed?" He thought for a minute, "but you said he wanted more money?" Knowing how easily Loveless acquired seemingly an endless supply of money, he thought out loud, "possibly the guard was bribed and helped Voltaire escape."

"Oh, no," Mosely said, his face turning red. "No, that's terrible thing to say."

"I have to look at all possibilities," Jim said quietly, trying to calm the man, "but I don't mean any insult. Now had this guard worked here long? Was he a good fighter? He may have been over powered by Voltaire, who is obviously very large but slow moving. Not real agile, if you know what I mean."

The warden nodded, "the guard, a mister Peter Harvey, had only worked here for a short time. He had been a Pinkerton man, you know, so I thought he would be trustworthy. I am sure he must have been kidnapped since he is gone completely, no sign of a struggle and no body found. He would never have gone voluntarily."

A loud snort was heard behind them. They both turned to see a guard helping Christian walk to them. He had taken her left elbow and wrist and was slowly guiding her closer. He spoke softly to the girl as he openly glared at the warden. Christian spoke quietly to him again as she moved to Jim's side. She nodded and thanked the man as he tipped his worn, woolen cap to her and moved off.

"He speaks French too?" Jim whispered, as Christian smiled but stayed silent. He turned back to the warden, irritated he had no idea what the guard had said, "do all of your staff speak French? Seems odd in a local prison."

"Oh, we have all kinds here," the warden said. "The prisoners are French, Italian, German, and other things we can't even identify. So we need to hire guards that speak many languages. That is why I was also trying to learn the languages, but I am very bad at remembering." He slapped his hands together eagerly, "and now, on your way out, I will show you my invention."

Jim gave the man his best poker face, "of course, on our way out. And while we walk, I have neglected to ask an important question. Have you had any other visitors either before or right after Voltaire arrived and then escaped in this mysterious explosion? The guard who escorted us in mentioned a pretty young lady that had visited so I assume she was accompanied by someone."

The warden smiled, nodding eagerly, "yes, yes," almost skipping with excitement. "Dr. Sansamour! He was a delight. Such an intelligent man and very interested in my invention. He wants to bring it back to Europe with him. He is also from France."

"What a coincidence," Jim said, shaking his head. "And what did the good doctor look like."

"Well now that you mention it," the warden said, "he was a dwarf, or even a midget, really. Sad, he seemed to be almost deformed, had a difficult time walking. But very agile of the mind to make up for his physical limitations." He nodded, "I think that is why he was so interested in my invention. He knew that physical exercise was important to a simple man's well being and peace."

Jim let out a long sigh, "and he was accompanied by a young lady with pale white skin and very dark hair."

"Yes, Antoinette," the warden said, his eyes becoming suspicious. "You sound as if you know these people. I assure you, Dr. Sansamour said he had written many scientific articles. He wants to travel with me to Europe and spread the system I have developed." The man's righteous indignation was becoming obvious as his voice raised in volume. He suddenly turned and pushed through two large wooden doors, parting them in the middle, and strode into a huge open space. In the middle, a huge wooden wheel was attached to the floor with a large frame. A dozen men were in a row, each stepping on rows of rotating steps. The wheel was similar to a giant water wheel run but run by the strength of men walking on the steps. The center rod was connected to a longer rod that rotated with the wheel, and the other end disappeared into the far wall.

Jim stopped to stare at the monstrosity. He turned as Christian stepped closer to him. "This is crazy," he whispered to her. "This is the exercise program?"

"Maybe it's a way to exercise inside because it's so cold outside," Christian said, "in the winter? In the snow?" Jim rolled his eyes and looked back to the warden.

"This," warden said, "this is what all prisons will be using very soon. My invention," he said, pointing to the men, "and the center rod makes power as the wheel turns. So this building can be self-sufficient. And the more men, the better, especially larger men such as Voltaire. He was perfect, strong and eager to help once the situation was explained to him. I was so hoping he would have been with us for a long time."

"I bet you did," Jim said, nodding toward the wheel. "And what if the men don't want to do this activity? Are they forced? Do they get to rest?"

The warden turned to Jim, his face flushed in anger, "of course they have rest periods. And they are not forced," Mosely said, "they are given rewards for work, like any other worker. Some earn cash, some earn privileges. And Dr. Sansamour said he read my article that I had written and published, and then came to visit me in person."

"And then a main outer wall mysteriously explodes," Jim countered, his frustration finally overflowing. "A plain brick wall just blew up in the night. Also, the cell of just one prisoner is broken open, not unlocked, but broken. How does that happen? More explosions? Acid? So Voltaire just walked out? No guards stopped him, or even saw him? Or was he safely escorted out by the missing guard," he paused, leaning closer to the warden, "Peter Harvey? A Pinkerton man?" He stepped back, "I think you had better stop writing articles on exercise programs and start writing more details about what happened in this escape. I have a feeling more investigators will be visiting you after I leave. There seems to be a few lose ends still to cleared up about this situation." He paused again, taking a deep breath, noticing the color drain from the man's face. "Now I want to explain what really happened, in my opinion."

The warden drew a shaking hand over his face but remained silent, his eyes glued to Jim's.

"You wrote the article and had it published," Jim said, "in a magazine? Maybe about prisons? Somehow that doctor, who is a doctor but his real name is Dr. Miguelito Loveless, saw that article. He wrote the order to move Voltaire from a very strongly guarded Federal prison to this low level security, local prison. This was done with the idea of promoting your exercise system but it was really to just allow the escape." He stopped, putting his hat on his head. "I want to stress it isn't entirely your fault. Loveless is clever and usually gets what he wants, for a while anyway, so don't feel too bad. But you really need to write out every detail you can and cooperate with the investigators. I thank you for this tour and wish you well with this," he waved a hand at the wooden monster of a wheel. "Good day, sir." He tipped his hat and turned to Christian. He held out his left elbow. She took his arm and nodded to the warden . They turned and walked out, across the yard, and climbed into the waiting carriage.

]

[

Later…back at the train….

]

"You were so convincing," Christian laughed, as she relaxed on the couch. Jim walked to the glass case and pulled out a decanter. He splashed clear liquid into a whiskey glass. Her eyes followed him, "or did you actually believe I had sprained my ankle when walking past the broken brick wall. You were giving me some angry looks."

Jim hid behind the glass, remembering how annoyed he had been with her. "No," he said, winking, "or course I knew you were hanging back to speak to guards and workers. What did they say, now that we are in the seclusion of the train?" Sophie crawled out from under the couch and meowed at Jim, "oh, I see you. I knew you were under there." He reached down the pick up the cat as he walked to Artie's chair. Sitting, he held a glass to Christian, "feel free to get yourself a drink, by the way. You earned it."

Christian smiled, nodding, "I spoke to many people and they all said the same thing. Everyone hates that wheel, the prisoners and the guards. They think the warden is an idiot and is using everyone to make himself famous." She sighed, "the one man near the end that spoke to me in French said that the guard, Peter Harvey, left voluntarily. Apparently other guards saw him and tried to stop him. And they said other men came through the hole from the outside, half hidden in the smoke, to help Voltaire but the warden didn't tell anyone. They reported all this but it would make the warden look like he was out of control."

Jim sighed, "that's what I thought. Loveless has a lot of money, somehow, and buys everyone easily." He looked at Christian, "Dr. Sansamour? What is that in French? Amour is love, isn't it?"

"Yes," Christian said, "and 'sans' means less so it's really Loveless in French. I did wonder when I heard that." She wrapped her arms around her waist and let out a long sigh, tears suddenly coming to her eyes. "So your suspicions were accurate but how does it help us find Artemus and the others? Where do we start looking?"

Jim tipped his class back, emptying the contents. He leaned back in the chair, holding Sophie against his chest, and stared at the ceiling, whispering slowly, "I have no idea." The train whistle blew a long, lonesome sound in the night and chugged into motion, heading back to Washington, D.C.

]

tbc


	5. Chapter 5 Missing Friends

These stories are in memory of our great friend Robert Conrad, who passed away recently. His birthday is tomorrow, March 1st, and also it will be his funeral, we have heard. And Ross Martin, whom we lost years ago. His birthday is also in March, on the 22nd. Thankfully we all share our stories and they will never be forgotten.

Thank you for the reviews and i hope you enjoy this chapter and think of Robert's family tomorrow.

Chapter 5. Missing Friends

[

]

"Artemus?" Jeremy's insistent voice broke through the darkness in the unconscious mind of the younger secret service agent. "Artemus, can you hear me? Try to open your eyes." He shook his friend's shoulder, slowly rocking him back and forth on the narrow bed. A low grown came from the sleeping form. "That's it, wake up now. It's been long enough."

"Jeremy?" Artie's voice was weak as his eyes slowly opened. "What happened? Where…" He tried to pick up his head but collapsed back to the bed.

"Just relax, Artemus," Jeremy said, holding a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder. "There is no hurry and there is no place to go. I just was worried you were sleeping a mite too long." He chuckled, sitting back in a creaking wooden chair. "Of course all the running around you do, this might have been the best night of sleep you've had in a while."

"Night?" Artie said, blinking the cobwebs away. "I was going to the bank in the day time. Wait, I was with Celeste. Where is she?" He picked up his head and managed to roll onto his side. "And now you're here. You look alright, at least."

"Oh, I'm fine," Jeremy smiled, letting out a long sigh. "I have been stuck here for a long time. Sorry to see you joining me in much the same way I arrived. I haven't seen Celeste though. I'm sure she's somewhere nearby, maybe in the woman's quarters."

"Woman's quarters?" Artie blurted out. He pushed himself up to a sitting position, swinging his feet to the floor. "Owe," he moaned, holding a hand to his forehead. "What a headache. Damned knockout gas." He rubbed his eyes and tried to look around. "Where is this Jeremy, what's happening?" The room was small, windowless, with only enough space for the narrow bed and the wooden chair.

Jeremy stood and held out a hand, "let me walk you to the sitting room to join the party." He grasped Artie's left arm and helped him stand. Artie's knees buckled but he grabbed the edge of the bed and stood straight again. He stepped out of the sparsely furnished bedroom through the open doorway and into a small sitting room. "Just drop onto the davenport and I will pour you a refreshment." He lowered Artie to the cushions and moved to a small table of glasses and decanters. He poured liquid into two glasses and returned to the couch. "Here you are, Artemus. Diner will be served shortly."

"Thank you," Artie said, rubbing his forehead again. He tipped the contents in a big gulp and coughed, his eyes opening. "Jer, this is water! I thought it was whiskey. Who keeps water in a decanter?"

Jeremy laughed, sipping his water, "can't you guess? I can give you some hints, if you'd like." Jeremy grinned, holding out a finger, "One – he hates alcohol. Says it ruins a man's brain. Two – loves to make grand, yet secret plans. Three – is a doctor but won't tell me of what. Four…" he paused as Artie rolled his yes. "Are you ready to announce your guess?"

"Miguelito Quixote _Loveless_," Artie said, sipping the remains of his drink. "Doctor of something, but I can't remember right now." His eyes narrowed. "So the good doctor is behind this? Where is everyone else? Colonel Richmond has a long list of missing agents."

"Everyone is here," Jeremy said, nodding to the doors that were shut around the small living room. "We sleep a lot during the day and plan at night. Try to come up with yet another plan of escape or possibly reasoning with the doctor."

"Reasoning with him?" Artie snorted, "I imagine that isn't working out too well. Why don't you plan in the day and sleep at night?"

Jeremy pointed at a large door, "that door leads to the hallway. It pops open with the least notice during the day as various visitors arrive. But at night, it's very quiet. There is a guard outside but he sleeps more than we do. So we just thought it was safer to discuss our predicament without being listened to." He took Artie's glass and refilled it, "and," he said, handing the glass back, "we are only fed at night. Easier to ignore an empty stomach all day when asleep."

"No hearty breakfast?" Artie sipped at the water again. "So tell me again who's here?"

Jeremy listed the names of the missing agents as Artie tried to remember the list. "I think that's all the names I saw. And now my name must have been added again." Artie chuckled, "poor Richmond, he crossed my name out, and Jim's, when we came back from our trip. But now he must have added me to it again." He let out a long sigh, "Jim is going to be upset. He'll figure out where we are soon and come to join us."

"I know how Jim hates to miss a party but" Jeremy said, "he may have trouble figuring out where to look. We may have to send him a message, if we can." He shook his head in disgust. "Did they grab you in a carriage?"

Artie nodded, "yes, I was at Headquarters and going to the bank. Celeste wanted to come with me so I flagged down a carriage. I thought it was a random, every day, public carriage like all the rest. But it must have been one hired by Loveless to watch our building. Whenever an agent wants one, the driver apparently sweeps in and picks us up." He stood suddenly, his legs shaking, and began to walk around the room, leaning a hand on a piece of furniture. He paused at each small door, listening to the sound of snoring, some men louder than others. He paused at the main door, trying the doorknob. The knob turned but the door didn't budge. He ran a hand over the edge, noting that the door fit tightly into a space with a wooden trim, blocking anything from being wedged into the space.

Suddenly a creak sounded on the far sound of the door and then a rattle of keys. Artie stepped back quickly to the sofa where Jeremy was still sitting. He dropped back heavily onto the cushions. The door cracked ajar and then slowly opened, revealing Voltaire. The giant man filled the space, slightly tipping his head to one side to not bump the door frame.

"Hello," Voltaire said slowly, in his awkward voice, stepping into the room. He smiled and nodded as he opened the door further. Artemus and Jeremy smiled and nodded to him.

"Good afternoon, Voltaire," Artemis said, as he and Jeremy stood again, "It's been a long time. You are looking well. How are you?" Voltaire laughed, tipping his head back and shaking all over with hysterics. He stepped back, pushing the door fully open against the wall with his back.

"Good morning, Mr. Gordon," another voice said, as Doctor Loveless stepped inside. He paused, dramatically, bowing to the agents. "I trust you are feeling better after your long rest." He looked up at his tall assistant, "Voltaire, Mr. Gordon made a polite inquiry as to your health. You should answer him."

Voltaire stepped forward, nodding to Artemus, "I am fine. Thank you for asking." He smiled and looked down at Loveless.

"Very good," the doctor said, "you may wait in the hallway now." The taller man moved out of the room, still laughing. Loveless moved further into the room, stepping up onto a low coffee table, making himself slightly more at eye level with the agents. "I have been trying to teach Voltaire about some of the pleasantries in social circles. I am afraid he just finds them amusing. But they are, aren't they, so who's to say he isn't smarter than we?" He giggled, looking Artemus up and down. "You do seem recovered sufficiently from my knock out gas."

"I'm fine," Artemus said, clearly annoyed. "What's this all about? Some crazy scheme, as usual?"

"Oh, yes," Loveless said, nodding, "and you are so good at guessing, Mr. Gordon. Care to take a few guesses now?" He rubbed his hands together eagerly, as his eyes twinkled with excitement.

Artie sighed, shrugging his shoulders, "you have kidnapped one of each pair of Secret Service agents in the hopes of crippling the service. You have often commented on Jim and I being unable to work alone." He shook his head, "but as we always reassured you, agents can work alone, as well as forming new pairs immediately, as work requires. It's especially useful when an agent is injured or sick or even kidnapped."

"Is this what this is all about?" Jeremy snorted, "Foolishness." He sat down on the couch and went silent, appearing to be bored with the conversation.

"Foolish, is it," Loveless said, "Well I can assure both of you that the importance of you, Mr. Gordon, is essential to my plan. But you cannot guess the rest since you only just arrived." His voice took a sharp edge and his eyes became hard, "now for the next step. You will assist me in every task that I ask you to perform, and if you do not…" He paused, pointing to Jeremy, "you can guess the rest?"

Jeremy stiffened as Artemus nodded slowly. "And the young lady I was in the carriage with? Where is she? I want to see her."

"Oh, that poor timid creature," Loveless said, smiling again, "she is like a frightened little bird. But I assure you she is safe and comfortable," He nodded, "you may see her and inspect her bird cage, but in the cage she will remain, while you do my bidding."

"You should be embarrassed," Artie snapped, "She must be terrified. She's a secretary and doesn't know anything about this work. She must be returned to Headquarters immediately. You don't need her when you have all these agents to threaten me with."

"No, no, no," Loveless yelled, stomping a foot in anger, "I will keep her in her cage. She will inspire you to work more efficiently. I can only threaten these brave agents so much to keep you in line but she, being in danger, will inspire you twice as well, maybe even thrice!"

"You know Jim West will come here and stop you like he always does," Artie countered, trying to shift the conversation to other angles, searching for more details.

"Oh, I do hope he does," Loveless said, quickly changing back to his giggling, eager self. "I look forward to seeing him again. As for him stopping me, I don't think so. Since you will be working with me instead of him, I am sure he will fail." He grinned, enjoying the open shock on Artie's face. "Yes, and deep inside, you know I am right. You will be helping me, against your own partner. You will help me kill James West."

Artie's jaw set stubbornly and he glared at the doctor, growling, "I doubt that very much, Doctor Loveless. I don't care who you threaten. That just won't happen."

"Well let's not bicker," Loveless said, enjoying the anger he had caused. "You and I will be much too busy. You will come with me to your new lodging and begin your first task."

Artie squared his shoulders and glared down at the smaller man, "I want to see Celeste first or no deal, Loveless," he growled.

"Of course," the doctor said, "maybe you would even like to eat a meal with her. We have been having the darndest time getting her to eat. Such a flighty bird, scared of her own shadow. I think you reassuring her that she will be just fine would do her good." He nodded and jumped down off the table. He walked out the doorway without a backward glance.

Artie turned to Jeremy, reaching down to squeeze the man's shoulder. "It will be fine, Jer, trust me." He winked and quickly followed Dr. Loveless out into the hall. Voltaire stepped behind them, following closely. Another man slammed the door shut and locked it.

The group walked down the halls, up and down staircases, and through a large room with tables and chairs. Artie thought of the mess hall in the lower deck of the whaling ship he had recently spent so much time on. Women were moving around the kitchen, setting covered dishes on trays. Smells of cooked food drifted to Artemus and his stomach cramped with hunger.

"Not much farther," Loveless called out over his shoulder as he scurried along. Artie tried to catch views the of outside as they passed windows but only saw more buildings across open expanse of grass. He found himself having to hurry to keep up, impressed at the agility of the small man. He paused at a window for too long at one point and Voltaire gave him a sharp push in his spine to keep him moving.

"Here,we are," Loveless said, stopping at a door. He grinned up at Artie, chuckling, "should we knock first or just burst in?" He wiggled his eyebrows but saw Artie's glare and snarled back, "I was only joking. You know I am always a gentleman." Artie rolled his eyes but stayed silent as the doctor rapped his knuckles on the wooden door. "It's Doctor Loveless, my dear. I have a visitor for you. May we come in?"

"Yes," a woman's voice called out, weakly, as if she was out of breath. The group stood back as the guard unlocked the door.

Loveless pushed the door open and walked inside, stepping aside with the wave of a hand as Artemus entered behind him. "Your dinner guest."

"Celeste," Artemus said, quickly stepping to the young girl, "are you alright?" He started to hold a hand out to her but, in a burst of tears, the girl rushed to him, crushing her face against his chest. "Oh, come now," Artie said, wrapping an arm around her back and patting her shoulder with the other. "I don't think it's all that bad." He turned to the men behind him, "maybe you could leave us alone for a bit. She seems upset."

"Of course," Loveless said, looking bewildered at her reaction. "I will have a meal sent up. She hasn't been eating and it has alarmed me."

"it would appear she is somewhat alarmed also," Artie said, giving their jailor a glare. Loveless nodded and hurried out. The door was pulled shut and locked.

"There," Artie said, "we can talk now. Why don't we sit," he said, guiding the distraught girl to a nearby couch. "We need to discuss this situation. This isn't good for you to be this upset."

"How else should I feel," Celeste said, holding a lace handkerchief to her eyes. She wiped her face and nose, "I wake up in a strange room with men standing over me! I just started screaming! And what happened to us? We were in a carriage on our way to the bank! Oh, if only I hadn't worn my new shoes to work. My mother warned me and now….

"Ok, calm down," Artie chuckled, patting the girls arm. "I will just say it was a knock out gas, very common really, and well developed without any smoke or smell. But harmless. So let's not worry about that anymore." He watched her, waiting for her breath to calm down. "Now I realize that you aren't used to this sort of thing and it's a shock. I will try to talk doctor Loveless into letting you go home since you aren't needed here. But it might take a couple of days. In the meantime, I want you to think about your health which means resting and eating." He stared into her eyes until she nodded.

"Who is the doctor Loveless," Celeste whispered. "Why is he doing this?"

"Kidnapping people," Artie chuckled, "it's a hobby." He grinned at her shocked face. "He is someone that Jim and I deal with every once in a while. He was in a Federal prison but escaped a while back and we haven't been able to capture him again. So this is a good opportunity to find out what is happening and arrest him."

"Arrest him?" Celeste stared at him, her handkerchief going to her throat. "But aren't you kidnapped also?"

"In a matter of speaking," Artie said, sitting back on the couch and rubbing his forehead, "actually being kidnapped is one of the best ways to get into the middle of a situation, the thick of it, so to speak, and then study what is being planned and form a counter action and start arresting the bad guys. It's a real time saver over running around, following people, all that sort of thing." He winked at the shocked girl, "Jim and I do this all the time. He'll be along soon, you just watch."

He stood and walked across the room to a window, "and if you should see anyone coming in your window, it will be Jim," he said, winking at her. He raised the window, leaning out to look around. A wide ledge ran along the outer wall, and they appeared to be on the second story. He stood back and turned to the girl, "yes, Jim would be able to climb up here easily. So don't hit him with a vase or push him out." He walked back to the couch.

"But what if it's one of the bad people instead of Jim," the girl asked.

"The bad guys come in through the door," Artie said, nodding to the door, just as the lock was turned. "See," he grinned. A man came through the door pushing a wheel cart. On top were many covered serving trays and a pile of dishes. A bottle of wine and stemmed glasses were also on the tray. Antoinette was behind the cart, her hands twisting together nervously.

"How are you feeling," she asked, worry clear on her pretty face. She looked at Celeste and then to Artemus. "I do hope you can encourage her to eat. And there is enough for two, of course. Please let me know if she needs anything. Dr. Loveless would like her to be comfortable."

"Of course he does," Artie said, nodding, as he stood. "And thank you for this lovely meal. I am sure she will eat now that I am here with her."

Antoinette nodded, relieved at his words, and hurried out, followed by the guard. The door was quickly shut and locked.

"Well I'm starving," Artie announced, holding a hand out for Celeste. "Let's dig in, shall we?" He guided her to a chair and sat opposite her. Uncovering the dishes, they looked eagerly at the food. Roasted chicken, potatoes, and vegetables were piled deep in the bowls and platters. "Looks good to me," Artie said, spooning food onto the plates. He handed one to the young girl and noticed she immediately started to eat. He picked up a bottle of wine and inspected the cork, looking for any suspicious holes. Not seeing any, he pushed a bottle opener into the cork and began turning it out. "Not the best year," he grinned, "but it should be adequate." He popped the cork and filled the stemmed glasses. "Dr. Loveless is certainly an odd duck," he sighed, holding his glass in a toast, "but he really does set a nice table." They clinked glasses and started to eat.

]

[

[

Later that evening…

]

"I trust your dinner was acceptable to your tastes, Mr. Gordon," Dr Loveless said as they walked across the yard. "Antoinette told me the young lady also ate the meal. I am so relieved." The area was dark and the stars were bright in the sky. Walls were seen in the distance in all directions, the gloom broken with occasional flickering lamp light. The gravel crunched under their boots as they moved toward a small stone building.

"It was fine," Artie said guardedly. His eyes quickly assessed the building they were approaching, studying the bars on the windows and doors. "And if you were truly worried about that young lady, you would put her in a carriage and deliver her to her home, so stop patronizing me with your imaginary concern."

Loveless stopped and spun around, glaring at Artie. "Mr. Gordon, you over step the limits of a guest. I refuse to tolerate rude behavior. Keep that in mind." He turned back, marching toward the building.

"Oh, I will," Artie said, chuckling. The group stopped as a man opened the door. Loveless strode in and waited for Artie to enter, closely followed by two guards, as other men remained outside. The darkness was only dimly abated by one lamp, outside a window a few feet from the building.

Loveless turned in the room, holding his arms out to his sides. "One of my many work rooms. Completely outfitted for experiments. Supplied with many different types of chemicals, glassware, reference books, and everything else a laboratory needs." He wrapped his arms around himself and gave a short bow, "and I give it all to you, Mr. Gordon." He stood up straight, looking at Artemus, "and what do you say to that?"

"Why," Artie asked, obviously not impressed.

"What do you mean, 'why'?" Loveless fumed, "I have seen your wretched little lab on that measly train. Small, ill-supplied, limited resources and space. Isn't this what you have always wanted? And all the time in the world to invent?"

Artie snorted and began to walk around the room, looking at books and chemical labels on bottles. "Just what I always wanted," he muttered, "locked in a small, stone building, by myself to make what?" He turned back to Loveless, nodding, "obviously I am to invent something that has you perplexed?"

"Perplexed!" Loveless stomped a foot, "don't flatter yourself! You invent something for me? Ha!" He stomped around the room, muttering and swinging his arms. "I will tell you what you will be doing for me. You will do my bidding, or else!"

"Well what then," Artie said, irritated. "Spit it out, man. I certainly won't be starting it tonight, either, there isn't enough light in here to find the end of my nose, much less mix and measure secret potions."

"You are as exasperating as your partner, Mr. West," Loveless snarled, stomping closer to Artemus.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Artie snarked. He dropped into a chair and held a hand over his forehead, releasing a long sigh, "excuse me doctor but my head is swimming. It's been a long day and a half."

Loveless stopped, staring at the agent, "are you ill? Maybe the lingering effects of the gas. I will let you rest tonight. We will talk in the morning. I will leave men outside in case you need anything in the night and there is clean water to drink at the washstand." Artie nodded, silently, keeping his eyes on the floor. Loveless nodded and moved out the door. The two guards let with him. The door was pulled shut and locked.

Artie quickly stood up and started to hum to himself as he busily began reading labels of bottles and boxes. "You have a variety of ingredients, doctor, but to make what? Since you obviously aren't ready to tell me yet…" He moved to a desk and sat down, picking up books, tipping the covers to the flickering lamp light coming in the window. He sorted them out by subject, make neat stacks on the desk. Tapping his fingers on the chair arms, lost in thought, he jumped as the door suddenly cracked open.

"Hello," a man's voice said. A tall man in dark clothing walked into the room. He turned and saw Artie at the desk. "Ah, there you are, already at work. Impressive."

Artie tipped back in the chair, watching the man, not offering any greeting.

The guard shut the door and approached the desk, "forgive my curiosity but the doctor has been talking non-stop about your arrival, about how smart you are…" he shrugged, "and I bet you don't even know why, do you?"

"The doctor will let me know," Artie said, "but you have me at a disadvantage. Your name is?" He studied the man's clothing as he spoke, noting the matching, plain blue, shirt and pants, almost a uniform. His eyes lingered on a dark blue spot of the man's shirt front, loose and broken threads where a badge had been.

"Peter Harvey," the man said, giving Artie a mock salute. "I am no one, trust me, but you on the other hand…not equal to Dr. Loveless, of course, but obviously you have a reputation. He has entrusted you to his lab, not that this is his only one. He seems to have many."

"All outside in separate buildings, like this one?" Artie waved a hand at the block wall behind him. "Looks like a building where gunpowder or nitroglycerin would be made."

"Funny you should say that," Harvey said, pointing a finger at Artie. "but I just wanted to say that I'm your friend here. And you're going to need a lot of friends here because you're going to be alone out here and you'll need food and water and be allowed outside for fresh air." He held his arms out, "imagine staying in this stone room for months without ever going outside?"

"Unless I need an escort to the latrine," Artie snorted, obviously not impressed. "I doubt I will have any need for you." He picked up a book and began flipping pages, though still watching the man closely through his eyebrows. Harvey pounded a fist into his palm, similar to Jim's angry motions, and finally stormed from the room, slamming the heavy door behind him. The lock clicked loudly. "Idiot," Artie snapped, shutting the book, talking to himself, "Or, Artemus, maybe you shouldn't have shut him out, he could have been useful. But if this is to be my home now, I will throw out whomever I please and I am not in the mood tonight." He picked up another book and returned to reading.

Tbc….


	6. Chapter 6 A Plan Forms

Chapter 6. A Plan Forms

Artemus leaned over slightly, turning the flask toward the afternoon sunlight coming through the window nearby. He squinted at the meniscus, trying to judge the level of the solvent. He heard the door to the old stone building creak open suddenly and slam shut. The sounds of boots scrapping across the gravely stone floor behind him irritated his already frazzled nerves. He straitened and dumped the liquid from the flask into a larger beaker, growling, "close enough". He put the flask down and picked up the book to check the next ingredient, keeping his back to the visitor.

"Gordon," Peter Harvey's voice snapped, "didn't you hear me come in?"

Artie continued to ignore the guard, leaning over to look at labels on an assortment of bottles on the table in front of him. He picked up a square bottle and removed the cap, and then picked up the measuring flask again. He started pouring the second solvent, the back of his brain listening to the man's feet shuffling with impatience. He dumped the liquid into the beaker and quickly backed up, setting the bottle and flask down quickly, a look of horror on his face. He pointed a shaking finger as smoke snaked out of the beaker and small bubbles began to appear. "Oh, no," Artemus said, backing up further, almost bumping into the guard.

"What?" Harvey said nervously, his eyes on the smoking beaker, "is it supposed to smoke like that?"

"Of course not, man!" Artie yelped, backing toward the far wall. "If it explodes…"

The guard spun and ran for the door, yanking it open. He paused in the doorway, motioning to Artemus, "should we get clear of the building? Should I tell the Doctor?"

Artie started laughing, holding his sides, at his own joke, "no, I'm just fooling around with you. It's fine." He moved to the desk and dropped into the old chair. The guard stomped back into the room and angrily slammed the door shut behind him, pointing at Artie, his mouth open in protest.

Artie interrupted before Harvey could speak, "I've told you never to enter without knocking and asking first. If I had been working with delicate liquids, you could have caused a catastrophe. You have no idea if I am pouring Toluene or Nitroglycerin!"

"Damn you and your chemicals," Harvey snarled. "I only come in here because that damned doctor orders me to come. You think I visit you for the fun of it?"

"I don't give a damn why you come here," Artie snapped back, "just knock first. No barging in like you own the place."

"You don't own it either," Henry snarled again, pounding his fist on the old desk. "You're a prisoner, and don't forget it. Now don't you want to know why I'm here?"

Artie leaned back and put his boots up on the desk, waving a hand out to the guard, "of course, I'm dying to know." He picked up another book and began slowly turning pages, ignoring the man again.

Harvey stood and backed up a step, his right hand dropping to his revolver, slung low on his hip. The black holster and belt glistened with oil in the sunlight. "When this is over, Gordon, I will fill you full of lead, one slow shot at a time."

"Is that what the doctor told you to come here to tell me?" Artemus said quietly, his eyes still on the book.

"NO!" Harvey yelled, punching the desk again, his anger and frustration at being ignored boiling over. He straightened again and glared down at Artemus, almost spitting his words now, "Doctor Loveless has requested your presence at dinner this evening."

Artie snorted, turning another page, "you may inform the good doctor that I must decline his invitation. I regret that I was not dressed for a formal dinner when I was acquired and my day clothes would be an insult to his other guests."

Harvey glared for a moment, his mouth open with surprise, then turned and stomped from the room. He snapped open the door, stomped out, and slammed it again. He yelled something to the guards and they murmured a response.

Artie stood and walked to the window, chuckling at the activity outside. Guards tipped their heads together, whispering, and glancing nervously toward the window. Artie waved a hand at them and turned back to the beaker. The smoke had dissipated and the boiling was stronger now. He reached a hand over to a knob to turn down the flame of a burner. Whistling to himself, he picked up the book again and continued his work.

]

Later that evening…

]

"How nice of you to join us, Mr. Gordon," Dr. Loveless said, smiling in greeting as Artemus was lead into the large dining room. He waved a hand to the other guests already in the room. Antoinette was seated at a large round table, sipping a glass of wine. Next to her was Celeste, the young lady looking nervous and bewildered. Even Voltaire, sitting across the table, was dressed in a cleat suit.

Artie stepped into the room and gave the doctor a short bow. He smiled at Antoinette and Celeste, ignoring Voltaire. "Thank you for inviting me and providing me with a clean change of clothing," he said, running his right hand down his chest. The soft material was a deep maroon jacket with matching pants and a clean, crisp white shirt.

"We wouldn't want you to miss this special evening because you are under dressed," Loveless said. "Antoinette is so quick with needle and thread, it only took her a few hours this afternoon to alter a suit that was available. I do hope it fit." He paused as Artemus nodded to the dark haired woman. "Please sit, have a glass of wine. Dinner will be served shortly."

Artemus moved behind Voltaire and sat closer to Celeste, taking the girl's hand I his to give it a squeeze. She gave him a week smile but tears were in her eyes and her breathing came in little gasps. "And how are you, Celeste? It's been a few days since I saw you last." He noticed she was wearing the same dress but it seemed clean and neat. "Have you been eating and sleeping?"

He noticed Dr. Loveless watching with a wrinkled brow, apparently nervous about the young lady. Antoinette smiled and said quickly, "it is good you came. I think she has missed you. She eats less than a bird does."

Artemus let out a long sigh, turning to Dr. Loveless, "you know this is wrong," he said quietly, "to keep her here. I told you I would cooperate because of the others."

Loveless sat back in his chair, quickly pasting his usual crafty smile on his face, "oh, now, Mr. Gordon, let's not spoil dinner by squabbling. Tell me how your work is coming. I should have stopped by to visit but I have been so very busy myself."

"It's coming along," Artie said, picking up a glass of wine near his plate. "It's cook book chemistry, what could go wrong?" He sipped the wine, swirling it, watching the doctor over the rim.

"Cook book chemistry?" Loveless said, confused, "I've never heard that term. What does that mean?" He looked at Artemus intently.

"It means idiot work," Artie said, "blindly follow a recipe, just like baking a cake. Measure, mix, heat, and you have what you should have every time. No brains involved. That's why you want me to do it, right?" Artie said as Loveless began chuckling. "You need large amounts of this material made. It's boring, dirty work and has to be done in a safe location, hence the stone building away from everything else. I'm surprised I'm not making you vats of nitroglycerin."

"Nitroglycerin," Loveless said, shaking his head, "so old fashioned. Too uncontrollable to use. No, no, my new invention will be much more useful, more dependable, more portable, more…" he grinned, giggling again, "more secretive, more cunning. But…" he sat up again, looking Artemus in the eye. "But, you don't know the entire recipe. Not yet. You aren't baking a cake and you know it." He paused, almost daring Artemus to say something. "No, you are wondering what you are making. But I won't tell you."

"You'll have to tell me eventually," Artemus said softly. "If I'm to finish making it for you. "

"I don't need you to finish making the final product," Loveless said, picking up his glass. "I just need you to make a lot of this first batch," he nodded, sipping his water. "But we are monopolizing the conversation." He turned to Antoinette and Celeste, who had both been sitting quietly between the two men. Antoinette had always known and been involved with the doctors plans but Celeste was bewildered, her fingers twisting nervously. Her blue eyes had moved from the doctor to Artemus as they had spoken.

Artemus nodded to the ladies and raised his glass of wine, "my apologies. I am looking forward to a fine dinner this evening."

Antoinette blushed, "I do hope you will like it. Beef Wellington. Its one of Miguelito's favorites."

"My dear," Loveless said, "why don't you play a song for Miss Celeste. I am sure she would enjoy it." He turned to the younger lady, adding, "Antoinette and I have always enjoyed music, helps to pass the time and gives us comfort."

"And Maguelito has a wonderful voice," Antoinette said, as she rose. "Let's both sing until dinner is served." They both moved to the piano; she sat on the bench as he stood at her elbow. Her long fingers began to play a lite tune, up and down the keys. Dr. Loveless closed his eyes and began to sing a song of love and springtime. Voltaire turned to watch, his huge boots tapping on the floor.

Artie turned to smile at Celeste. The girl was watching everyone but staying silent. "I think after we eat, I will take you for a walk outside. You could use a bit of fresh air. I bet you haven't been outside since you arrived."

"Would they let me," She whispered, timidly. "They seem so pleasant but they won't let me go home. It's been days and my parents must be worried sick and…" tears welled in her eyes and she quickly dabbed at them with a napkin. Artie reached out to squeeze her wrist. "Thank you," she whispered, "I wouldn't know what to do if you weren't here. I can watch you from my room. Sometimes I see you walk outside and then back inside."

"I've been busy. Just keep playing along," Artie whispered, winking. He turned back to the performance. Soon, the doors opened and a cart, laden with silver serving trays, was pushed in. "Dinner is served," he sighed, as Antoinette moved to the cart. She moved the trays to the table, peeking under covers to look at the food. "Smells marvelous," Artie said, his stomach growling suddenly.

"I do hope you like it," Antoinette repeated. She pulled all the covers off and placed them on the cart. She nodded to the younger maid as the woman pushed the cart out of the room. Harvey held the door for her and took one longing look at the food, and followed her out.

"My dear," Loveless beamed, "you have out done yourself this time. And my favorite too. What a party we are having." He rubbed his hands together, looking at the large baked pastry on a platter.

"If only Jim West could join us for dinner," Artie said, with an obvious look over his shoulder at the large windows on the far side of the room. "Maybe he will crash the party during dessert."

Loveless and Antoinette exchanged a worried look as Dr. Loveless tried not to look at the windows, but he finally stole a glance and shrugged. "That mister negative is not invited. He always spoils my parties, throws food, and starts fights. I hope not to see his shadow for many weeks. But…"his slow smile creeped back to his face, "I will want him to come eventually. I will send him an invitation when I'm ready."

"He does love to pop in unexpectedly," Artemus added, taking a plate of food from Antoinette. "But I hope he doesn't show up tonight until after I have eaten. This looks positively fabulous," he said, making a big show of smelling the dinner. A thick square of beef, wrapped in a pastry, was in the center of the plate, surrounded by vegetables and potatoes, all covered in dark gravy.

Antoinette blushed and handed Celeste a plate too. After everyone was served, she sat down, turning to the young lady, "I hope you enjoy it. Maybe tomorrow you would like to help me prepare food. I find cooking to be relaxing, like my music."

"That would be nice," Celeste said, carefully, "if I might, I also enjoy playing the piano. Maybe we could do that together?"

Antoinette beamed, "that would be wonderful. Did you hear," turning to Loveless, "Maguelito, she plays as well." She clapped her hands lightly in excitement.

"Yes," Loveless smiled to them, "you two will have hours of entertainment. Maybe," he said turning to Artemus, "I will entertain Mr. Gordon. I have neglected you so. I assume you have all sorts of bottles of my concoction ready to go. Maybe we will test one." He rubbed his hands together eagerly. "It might be good to get a jump start on my plans, just in case that mister nosey West does come early. I do hope to be ready."

Artie didn't respond, knowing silence was annoying to the doctor. He tipped his glass of wine and began to eat.

]

[

Later that night

[

]

"What a beautiful evening," Artemus said, patting Celeste's hand on his forearm as they walked. "I've always enjoyed a walk after a heavy dinner. My Aunt Maud always said to eat the larger meal in the middle of the day and eat lighter fare in the evening." The girl nodded in agreement as he turned to look behind them. A few yards away, half hidden in the shadows, followed a guard. Artie hollered back to the man, "Harvey, you will let me know if we walk too quickly for you?" The man glared but kept his pace steady.

"Why do you torment that man so," Celeste whispered. "You asked me to be pleasant to the doctor and Antoinette but then you treat that man…?"

Artie laughed, breathing the night air, "that man deserves it all and more. He told me he was working in a prison and helped Voltaire escape. Now he is working here. Turned from good to bad in the blink of an eye?" He shook his head, "no, I hope to get him frustrated enough to either tell me what is happening or make him leave his post, make a mistake. Anything." He took another deep breath, "but all in all, you have to admit that we are doing pretty well."

"What?" Celeste said, blinking up at him. "I don't understand? We've been kidnapped! Shouldn't we be trying to escape?"

"Escape? Already?" Artie laughed, "But we just arrived. And rest assured, being kidnapped is the best way to get in the middle of a mystery. I need to investigate what he's doing." Artie tapped her hand again as they walked, "lets summarize. You and I are here, and in good health. And we found every one of the missing agents. No injuries, no one missing, and they are all together, and staying out of trouble. I asked Jeremy to keep the men informed that I was here and that Jim will be coming soon."

Celeste nodded slowly, "I supposed so. But I'm not an agent. I don't know what to do. And my parents must be missing me. Will Colonel Richmond tell them I was kidnapped too? They will be so upset. They didn't know that my office work would become dangerous but neither did I."

"Office work," Artemus, "isn't supposed to be dangerous but we have had the aid and assistance of many office ladies over the years. Sometimes they are needed to review a criminal's bookkeeping, other times it's because they speak a language I'm not familiar with, or just because we need a lady's touch." He stopped walking and turned, taking both her shoulders in his grasp, looking hard into her blue eyes. "But you need to remember, you are an employee of the Secret Service and you are working. So keep your chin up and your ears and eyes open."

The girl nodded and squared her shoulders, "I will." She stepped back and dabbed her eyes. "You might have to tell me what to do. I don't have any training at this. I just know typing and dictation and how to schedule meetings."

Artie put her hand back on his arm and started walking again. They passed along the edge of the property near a tall stone wall. They ducked underneath a wide tree, the branches breaking the moonlight into bright and dark splinters on the ground as they moved. "Tell me about your childhood," Artie said. The girl turned a surprised face to his. "Oh, come now, what did you used to do for fun as a child. Jim used to ride horses, run and climb everything, and fight with the neighbors' kids. He really never grew up. But he's got a sharp eye for details and an incredible memory. He can read a book, no matter how complicated, and remember it. He has learned a lot about chemistry and physics. He always wants to know more, keep learning."

"And you," Celeste asked. "You must have learned everything about chemistry in a college? And all the languages you speak? I read you speak six languages."

"I learned it all from the theater and working with others," he laughed quietly. "I made smoke and controlled explosions, improved and read books, talked to everyone I could. I never had time for formal education in a college but maybe someday, when I'm old and grey." He looked down at her, "what do you mean you 'read' about me?"

"Personnel files, of course," Celeste said. "When I started working, I read every file we have on all the agents. You and James had far more exciting files than other agents. Some of the case reports were barely even understandable. Maybe someday when we get back home, we could review some of those files. I have so many questions."

Artie laughed, "yes, we have had some experiences. But let me ask you, can you climb a tree?"

"I have never tried," Celeste said, looking up into the branches. "It doesn't look very high."

"How about climbing walls," Artie said, nodding toward the stone wall. "Ever do that as a child?"

"Of course not," Celeste laughed, "never. I spent my childhood walking with books piled on my head, and learning the harpsicord, and needlepoint." She sighed, "it all seems so foolish and useless now. If I had only know. My mother would never have let me climb a tree and would have had a heart attack if I climbed a wall."

"I think Jim's mother must have been a strong woman," Artie chuckled, "or busy and had no idea what he was doing."

"And your mother?" Celeste said, looking up at him.

"The theater was run by my parents, still is actually," he said, "it is a family business. So I was surrounded by aunts and uncles and cousins and grandparents and four older sisters."

"And the theater is how you learned your disguises too then," the girl said. "I have heard a lot of stories about that but it's not mentioned in the reports. In fact, I think a lot of details are left out of the reports."

"James and I write out all the pertinent details," Artie laughed. He turned to see where Harvey was, catching him leaning against a tree in the distance. "Harvey, you're falling behind! We could escape, you know." Harvey shook a fist at him and then started to light a cigarette. Artie turned back to Celeste, "I think I know how to get you out of here. But, if you can stand it, I would like to wait one more day. I know we have been here a while but I need to have a quiet day tomorrow. Your escape will probably cause a bit of excitement."

Celeste nodded, "all right, I can do that. I will play the piano and cook and be Antoinette's best friend. Maybe I can learn more of what's happening here."

"That's the spirit," Artemus said, "we will make an agent of you yet." They continued to walk along the edge of the wall, along a tree-lined path until they reached the main driveway and then turned to walk toward the main building.

]

[

]

The next morning…

]

Loveless walked around the sturdy, low table, his hands behind his back. He paused to tip a glass bottle, peering at the liquid inside. He checked each bottle and turned to Artemus, who was standing in the center of the room. Harvey, the usual guard, stood at loose attention at the door.

"Mr. Gordon," Loveless said sternly, "I see only six bottles. You have been here for days and have made only six? I find this unexpected. I would have been impressed by a dozen, or satisfied by even ten. But only six?" He tsked, shaking his head. "Is this work too difficult for you?"

Artie grinned, rocking back on his heels, hands in his pockets. "Well I try not to work too diligently. The work reflects my pay, my free room and board, my stress level." He chuckled at Loveless's flushed face, "besides the work is so boring. Now if I could make something more exciting, more creative. I think it makes me tired and I just have to sleep a lot."

"Really," Loveless snapped. "I had thought that your friends being in peril would inspire you to do your best. Your very best. I had asked you to make me a dozen by today."

"Why," Artie grinned, "are you in a hurry? Need to make something impressive before Jim West arrives? It's just a waste of time because he will stop you anyway, just like he always does."

Loveless stomped his foot in anger, snarling, "stop with your endless positive predictions. James West will be summoned when I am ready for him. I will send for him like I always do with a letter or possibly send someone to collect him. But not before I am ready," he repeated angrily. "And you will finish your work. I want six more by tomorrow. See if it will inspire you to stay awake."

"And you want me to follow that same recipe?" Artemus asked, grinning again, nodding toward the workbench. "Maybe I can spice it up with a few other flavors? Some Acetonitrile perhaps? There is an older jar of sulfur and some zinc on the back shelf."

"No!" Loveless shrieked, "No, no, no!" He stomped back and forth in front of Artemus, breathing heavy. "I asked you politely," he said, trying to calm himself, "to help me in this creative endeavor. I needed someone with an intelligent, scientific mind, and thought of you. I chose you to come here and assist me. And this is how you treat me? By not doing as you're asked? I give you a simple task, yes, beneath your intelligence, but it's how it is at this step. I am doing my work in another room in the main house. I need you here to mix these solvents where it's safer to work. Now I am asking you as a fellow scientist, to finish this step in the process."

Artemus has stood quietly, studying the doctor. The man seemed stressed and hurried as usual but nothing more than usual. Not wanting to push too far at one time, he backed off. "You're right, doctor, I apologize for not taking this seriously. I understand and will comply, as a fellow scientist. I would like to ask if I could request an assistant though to speed my work."

Loveless stopped pacing and turned to look back, "and I have given you Mr. Harvey. In fact he volunteered to be outside working here. I would hope you would have already have had him working with you."

Artie held the doctor's gaze, trying not to grimace, "actually I hadn't but I'll give it a try."

"Good," Loveless said, "that's settled then. I will check on you tomorrow afternoon. I am making the final adjustments to the next set of ingredients. I am sure you interested in what those are and what the final product will be."

"All these solvents are very explosive," Artie said, nodding again toward the workbench. "Obviously you are making a more controllable explosive by adding something." He smirked again, looking down his nose at the doctor, "I only hope that in my haste, that I don't make a mistake which will be detrimental in in unexpected and surprising way."

Loveless glared back, "if you do, the outcome will be quit expected and not surprising but equally detrimental to your friends. Don't forget my promise to you." He drew himself up straight, "I said you will help me murder Mr. West. " He held the glare, waiting, "what ? No clever retort?"

"No," Artemus said, "he will stop you just like he always has. I have no worries, whether I am still here to see it or not."

Loveless fumed, his face turning red, "careful, Mr Gordon. Be very careful." He turned and stepped across the room. Harvey snapped open the door and held it as the doctor left.

Harvey shut the door, staying in the stone house, and looked at Artemus, "looks like I just got a promotion." He crossed his arms and glared at Artemus. "I guess you need to treat me better now, if I'm going to be helping you doing this work. You need to start explaining this science work." He waved a finger at the bottles, "explain what all this shit is."

Artie rolled his eyes and walked to the desk. He picked up a book and handed it to Harvey, "Here, read this." The gold letters on the cover gleamed in the sunlight as Harvey took the book. "Basic Chemistry," Artie said, "let me know if you have any questions when you've finished." He turned and walked slowly back to the table of chemicals. With a long sigh, he leaned over and turned the Bunsen burner back on.

tbc

"


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7. Backup Arrives

]

[

Artemus bent over the desk, writing with a dull pencil on a blank piece of paper. He scratched out a long list of words, pausing, writing more, the list almost reaching the bottom of the page. He drew a long vertical line to the side of the words, making a column, and began writing more words in a new list. After only a few words, he drew another vertical line. He paused, staring at the paper. With a sigh, he leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes, twisting the pencil in his fingertips. "What have I forgotten? What could it be?" With a long sigh, he sat back up and threw the pencil down. He pushed the pile of books around on the desk, checking titles on the spine. One slipped onto the floor and fell with the book open. Artie glanced down at it and stared, looking at the page, "Uncommon Explosives." He leaned over and picked it up, "well, well, what is this, divine intervention?" He leaned back again in the chair and began reading.

Suddenly voices of the guards came to him from the window, agitated, all talking at once followed by the soft voice of Celeste in response. Artie jumped to his feet to look through the dirty glass. The small woman was speaking to the guards and nodding toward his door. One hand held a basket covered with a bright checkered cloth. Her other hand fluttered a lace handkerchief at her face. She was smiling and blinking her blue eyes at the men. Soon they were nodding to her and one jumped to the door, fumbling with a ring of keys. Artie turned as the door swung open.

"Ma'am," a guard said, "you just let me know when you want to come out. I ain't allowed to keep this here door open." Celeste stepped slowly into the room, holding the lace handkerchief over her mouth. She nodded to the man and blinked at the dim light.

"What are you doing here," Artie said, putting the book down onto the desk. "Are you out walking by yourself? I thought you had a full day planned." He sat on the corner of the desk, smiling at the pleasant surprise visit.

"I hope I'm not interrupting you," Celeste said, her eyes looking around the cluttered room.

"You are and I'm grateful", Artie said, "now tell me what happened and how you appear to be alone." He stood, suddenly remembering his manners, "but first, would you like to sit," he said, waving a hand at the chair, "or have a tour," he added, waving a hand toward the lab space.

She giggled, "oh, I would love a tour first. I have no idea about any of this."

Artie stepped closer to the table covered with bottles. "This is a collection of various solvents, chemicals, and metals. I am mixing them with a recipe that Dr. Loveless has given me, heating the mixture with the flame, watching for color changes and clarity. When a batch is finished, I let it cool and then add it to the larger containers over there," he said, pointing toward the large storage bottles lined against the far wall. "I am filling bottle number seven now. He wants me to finish a dozen by the end of the day."

"And you don't know why? What he wants with these?" Celeste stepped closer to peer at the bottles and then shrugged, turning back to him.

"Not exactly, "Artie said slowly. "I am trying to figure it out. He'll tell me eventually but I want to know more ahead of time."

"You seem to know how he acts and what he will say," Celeste said, "you must have known him for a long time to be able to predict his actions."

"Jim and I have been chasing with him for years now," Artie sighed, "we managed to arrest him twice but twice he escaped prison. Since then, he has been a step ahead of us. We can predict in general but he is very clever and knows to have multiple escape plans in place. That's why I want to find out as much as possible before Jim arrives."

Celeste stared at him, "you sound like you have this all in control. Will you just send for Jim when you need him?" She giggled and shrugged, waving a hand in the air. "Hey, Jim, join the party."

Artie nodded, smiling, "I will, if he doesn't show up on his own. We do this all the time in our work. One of us arrives to a location early and sets up the scene for the other one. Now, if I may ask, what is in the basket? Or are you carrying an empty basket just for show, pretending to bring me something?"

"Oh, no, this is for you," the girl said, handing him the basket, "its food. I thought it might be easier to get past the guards if I brought you breakfast. I haven't seen anyone bringing you food during the day."

Artie took the basket and waved a hand to the chair, "please sit and tell me about your morning. I thought you would be busy all day." He pulled the towel back and looked in to see a pile of muffins. "Thank you very much. I have not enjoyed the one meal a day idea either but it happens, especially when I chase Jim around. We often don't have time to eat for days."

"Oh, my goodness," Celeste said, as she sat delicately in the chair, "I can't imagine not eating at all, for days." Her eyes looked over all the books briefly but then she looked back to Artie. "Well, let me see, what happened first. Antoinette came to my room with tea and some of those muffins. We ate together and talked about clothing and music and cooking. We decided to play the piano first so we went to the dining room. She played and sang," she said, clapping her hands excitedly, "she has the sweetest voice. And then I played and she seemed very happy with my ability. I have been playing since I was very young." She paused, nodding to the muffins, "please eat while I talk. I have already had my breakfast." She smiled as he picked one up and bit into it. "Then we decided to do some baking. So we went to the kitchen. It's very large with many ovens and many work tables. She said that Dr. Loveless enjoys apple pie so we decided to make two. She mentioned that the doctor was very frustrated."

"That's interesting," Artemus said, in between bites, "did she say why?"

"No but I assumed it was his work," Celeste said, "anyway, when we were measuring out the flour to make the crust, Dr. Loveless came in. He seemed agitated and was walking around muttering to himself. Antoinette stopped her work and went to him. They walked outside together to speak alone but you had said that I should learn what is happening, so I stood at the sink and watched. I still couldn't hear but he was stomping around and waving his hands, obviously very upset. She seemed worried and was trying to calm him down."

"He does like to stomp around," Artie chuckled.

"Well soon he walked away and she came back inside." Celeste shook her head, "and everything had changed. She was quiet and worried and her hands were shaking. She tried to start working again but kept dropping everything; knives, spoons, seasoning containers. At one point she dropped the bowl of apples we had just peeled." She shook her head, "it was so sad. They just scattered everywhere. And poor Antoinette burst into tears. I tried to calm her down and said I would clean it up. A young woman came in to help and I asked her if there were more apples. She said no but would ask that more be brought in. So Antoinette decided to go lay down for a while." Celeste shrugged, "after I cleaned up the spilled apples, I decided to go out for a walk and try to see you. So I picked up the muffins and walked here."

"And no one stopped you when you left the house?" Artemus asked curiously.

"I never saw anyone," she said, "the only guards were out here, that I could see."

Artemus put the basket on the table and quickly stacked up the books. He pulled out a clean sheet of paper and began sketching rectangles. Celeste watched silently. He paused, looking at her, "I am going to draw the main floor of the building from what I can see from here. I want you to add what you know as you have moved around the hallways and different rooms." He drew markings on the page, "if this is the door I see, does this go into the kitchen?" She nodded, taking the pencil, she drew a room inside, adding interior doors and windows. "And where did Loveless appear inside? From a hallway?" She drew an arrow. "And where did he walk when he left?" She drew another arrow, drawing a path across the lawn. "He must have gone back inside another door." He took the pencil back, drawing as he spoke, "the first time I visited you, I walked in this door and entered a hallway. I went up two flights of stairs and arrived at your room. The second time, I entered the same door, into the hall, and only went up one flight of stairs and ended up in the dining room."

"Yes, the kitchen is on the first floor, the dining room is on the second, and my bedroom is on the third," she said, "I don't hear any sounds when I am in my room but when I was in the kitchen, other workers seemed to be nearby. Does this help you, to know where the rooms are?"

"Yes, I want to know where the doctor's work room is," Artie said quietly, "he has seen my work. I think I should see his."

"Do you think he would let you," Celeste said, "or will you trick him into inviting you?"

"Oh," Artie said winking at her, "I think I will just pop in tonight and look around on my own. I need to get past the guards but that will be easy now that you brought me these muffins." Celeste stared at him and then glanced at the muffins. "But I need to stop my work, or delay it, and I think you have given me a great idea." He stood up and walked to the bottles. "If Antoinette can drop the apples and delay baking a pie, than what would happen if I dropped a bottle of an ingredient in my cookbook chemistry." He checked other bottles on shelves, moving them into groups. "There are several that I only have one of. I suppose the good doctor may have another bottle in his room but I will have to take that chance." He turned back to the girl at the desk, "you have done a very impressive job. I couldn't have asked for anything better. Can I ask you to keep up the good work?" He held out a hand to help her to her feet, "keep your eyes and ears open, be friendly, and ask questions. Just be everyone's friend."

"But you often do the opposite," Celeste said, "is that wise?"

"Why that's just the old game of good agent vs bad agent," he grinned, "they will be angry with me but will think you are an angel and therefore will confide in you even more." He knocked on the door, "open up out there", he called. The keys jingled and the door creaked open. "The young lady would like to return now." He bowed her out of the stone building.

Artemus turned back to his collection of bottles, "ok, you guys, you wants it?" He chuckled as he picked up a bottle, tilting it. "Well you will smell the worst and hopefully you don't have a brother in the main lab, where ever that is." He turned and flung the bottle against the back wall. It shattered, and the liquid flowed down the stone. "Sorry, Dr. Loveless, the bottle just slipped out of my hands." He walked back to the desk and sat down in the chair. "Now to read more about this explosive topic." He picked up the book again and another muffin.

]

[

Later that evening….

]

"Unbelievable," Dr Loveless said, as he stormed around the small stone room. He stared at the glass bottles and turned to inspect the broken glass at the bottom of a far wall. "So you say that the bottle broke?"

"Yes, unfortunate accident," Artemus said, shrugging his shoulders, "very unfortunate."

"You were working and dropped it," Loveless said, turning to face the agent. "You work over there, Mister Gordon," pointing to the table with the Bunsen burner. "Explain to me how the bottle you dropped landed over here, across the room!"

"Slipped from my fingers," Artemus said, "just as I was turning. Freak accident."

Loveless stomped a foot in frustration, "and you kept this a secret all day? You couldn't have sent word that you needed additional supplies? You are not as good a worker as I expected. I was hoping for better cooperation from you. I warned you that I wanted results and if I don't get them, bad things will happen to your friends." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, "I will review what I have in my laboratory. If I cannot replace the bottle tonight, I will replace it tomorrow. You may have gained a few hours, Mister. Gordon, but that is all." He stomped to the door, pausing, as the guards opened it. "You are lucky that I am too busy to deal with you as I would like. But keep in mind your friends' lives, their very existence, are in grave danger." With that last threat, he walked out, followed by the guards. The door was pulled shut behind him.

"Well that went better than I thought," Artemus said, releasing a long breath, "he must be busy tonight. Maybe things not going well in his lab? Being a brilliant mad scientist isn't always easy, I guess." He turned to the desk and moved the stack of books, revealing the map of the house hidden beneath them. "Anyone in the kitchen tonight? I think I will take a walk." He sat down on the edge of the desk and pulled up his right boot onto his left knee. He pulled at the heel, twisting it slightly. It was stiff but eventually pulled off. The heel was hollowed out inside and held a small metal container. He tipped it out onto the desk and pushed the heel back onto his boot. He stood and looked down at his feet, "Jim, hiding supplies in a boot heel is a great idea. Glad I finally tried it. And luckily, I have sleeping powder in one heel." He picked up a muffin and looked at the container. "Now how do I add powder to a muffin that a hungry guard will not notice while eating?"

]

]

Later that night…

]

"So you didn't see anything," Loveless's voice came through the darkness and down the narrow hallway, where Artemus stood in the shadows. "You said you worked with Mister Gordon all day but never saw that bottle break?"

"No," Harvey's voice said, protesting, "I helped him mix lots of those liquids. And he has been explaining what he is doing. He even gave me a book to read." His boots sounded as they scuffed across the stone floor, "here, look. Chemistry. He told me to read it and said we would talk about it."

In the darkness, Artie ground his teeth, listening to the lies Harvey told about his day's work.

"He gave you that to read," the doctor sounded shocked. "And you were off studying your new book, by yourself, when he had the accident?" He let out a short laugh, "obviously he wanted you out of the way, that's why he gave you the book. And I am sure he doesn't expect you to do more than look at the pictures."

"Not many pictures in it," Harvey said, "and I did start to read it. So that must have been when he dropped the bottle."

"He didn't drop it," Loveless snapped, "He threw it! Against a wall clear across the room! Did he think I would believe that? Does he take me for a fool? Me?!" The room became quiet as Harvey fell silent. Bottles rattled and Loveless exclaimed, "Here, I have another bottle of Toluene. Now he had better not drop this one."

Artie leaned closer to the space between the open door and wall, moving to the side slightly, so he could see Loveless walk. The little man was carrying a bottle. He waved it to Harvey and set it on a table. "Now make sure he doesn't break this one. Or I will break his friends. He will see I don't threaten in vain."

Artie grinned in the darkness. He looked at the bottle and chuckled to himself, planning what to do next. He watched as Antoinette suddenly appeared. She approached the doctor, whispering in his ear. Loveless scowled, "I didn't order them to go out again! What do they think they are doing? Can no one do as I ask?" He scowled and scuttled from the room. Antoinette and Harvey, still carrying the chemistry book in his hand, followed close behind. The door hung open and the light still flickered.

Artie waited a minute to see if they would return. He cautiously walked around the open door, not wanting to make the smallest squeak, and moved quickly into the room. His quick eyes moved to the bottles, quickly checking labels. He squinted into the darkness. Shrugging, he picked up the lantern from its wall shelf and moved the light closer to the bottles. "Looking for a highly flammable mysterious liquid by the light of an open flame," he growled to himself. He gave up and moved to a table with beakers of liquids. An open notebook was on the shelf, "ah, that's what I need." He set the light down and began flipping through pages. He paused, reading the writing and continued to the next page. "So that's it," he muttered. He set the book down and picked up the light. Returning it to the shelf, he again scanned the labels, looking closely. He slowly picked up a small bottle of dark brown glass. Letting out a long sigh, he replaced the lantern to its shelf and he turned to leave the room. He picked up the new bottle of toluene and, pausing, he noticed another bottle of the same shape and size. Smiling, he picked up the other bottle and put it on the table where the Toluene had been. "Loveless, you really need to read labels more closely," he chuckled as he left the room.

He moved out of the back hallway and into the fresh night air. He moved from shadow to shadow, making his way back to the stone building. He stopped under a tree, near the outer wall, and watched the guards by the stone building. They all seemed to be asleep still from the poisoned muffins, slumped in their chairs by the door. He stepped toward the building but angry voices drifted in the night breeze to him, including the higher pitch of a woman. Curious, he moved toward the front of the main building.

A coach was parked by the front door and men were standing all around. Loveless was standing in the driveway, pointing at the coach's open door. His voice was sharp, "I didn't send you out after anyone else. There are no agents left that I wanted. Who could you have possibly brought to me?"

"He was one of the guys in the photo," one of the men said, pointing at the coach. His deep voice boomed out through the darkness. "We were driving down that street and saw him walking with some fancy lady. So we grabbed them both. No loose ends, that's what you always say!"

"I always say you should not attempt to think without my clear instructions," Dr. Loveless snapped. He waved a hand at the stage, "well bring them out. Surprise me!" He stood, huffing, his fists on his hips. Antoinette stood behind him, her hands fluttering nervously around her throat.

The driver moved to the stage and yanked open the door. He reached his hands inside and then backed up, pulling a woman outside. He held her awkwardly around the waist and she began to tumble to the ground. "Stop arguing!" He snapped, pulling her to her feet. The girl, in a red dress with blond hair falling onto bare shoulders, yanked out of his grasp. She threw up her right hand and hit the man in the face with her open palm. The man grunted in pain and fell back, his hands covering his nose.

"How dare you touch me!" She snarled, backing away. She raised her fists, appearing ready to continue the fight, and circled back to the doorway of the stage. "I told you I was helping the other passenger out!" She turned to the door and leaned in. Soon, a black boot came out of the doorway. She guided the boot to the carriage step. A dark pant leg and then a dark blue, long jacket appeared. A small man stepped out of the doorway and stood, swaying on unsteady feet. The driver stepped forward, his hand reaching out, and the girl spun, snarling, "back off!" She wrapped a protective arm around the older man and helped him walk toward Dr. Loveless.

"Where is this? Who are you?" The girl snapped, looking from the doctor to Antoinette.

Loveless bowed, smiling politely, "allow me to introduce myself. I am Doctor Maguelito Loveless and this," waving a hand behind him, "is my assistant, Miss Antoinette. And you are Colonel Richmond." He paused, smiling at the older man. "And I have looked forward to meeting you for many years now. I have many questions," he giggled, "so many questions."

Richmond gave him a week smile, rubbing a hand over his forehead. "I think a chat will have to wait until morning, if you don't mind, sir." He swayed and the girl jumped forward to hold him tighter.

She turned on Loveless, "he needs to lie down and he may need a doctor. A real one," she snarled. "The driver hit him with a jack and he was unconscious the entire ride."

"And who might you be," Loveless asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. "You are no agent."

"You may call me Lori," she said with a toss of her tumbling blond hair. "And tell your men to keep their hands off me if they value their health. And I stay with Colonel Richmond. Now where can he get cleaned up and rest?"

"Young woman," Loveless snapped, "I am in charge here and I give the orders. Not you, a filthy and violent female of the streets."

Lori glared at him, "if you like to give orders, than give them. Standing out here arguing in the cold night air isn't helping anyone, is it?" She huffed, adjusting her grip on Richmond's arm.

Loveless growled something low in his throat to Antoinette and they turned, walking inside. Lori and Colonel Richmond followed, at a slower pace. A few guards trailed behind as the group disappeared through the front doorway.

Artie chuckled, shaking his head, feeling a weight lift from his shoulders. He backed into the shadows of the trees and turned toward the stone building. He walked past his still sleeping guards and went inside. He looked at the two bottles in his hands, one labelled Toluene and the other with a long chemical name. He tipped it toward the moonlight, trying to read the small print, not daring an open flame again. "Where to hide you?" He looked around the small room, not seeing any loose bricks to make a space in the wall. His eyes caught the moonlight glinting off a dusty metal canister. He set the Toluene down walked quickly to it, removing it from the back of a shelf, opening it. It held nothing but dust. "Perfect, even made of copper, we don't need any sparks," he whispered, setting it on the work bench. He blew the dust out and slowly poured the mysterious chemical into the canister. He gently pushed the copper cap back down. Picking it up, he placed it back on the shelf and moved other bottles in front of it. He turned back to the empty bottle. Looking inside, there was a light layer of dampness remaining. "I wonder how explosive a small amount of residue would be. And this label needs to go." He picked up a knife and slowly scraped the paper label off. He tossed the pieces onto the table to burn. He put the bottle on a different shelf, surrounding it with more bottles.

Artie stepped back, admiring his handiwork. "Good thing there are such a plethora of bottles in here. " He looked down at the Toluene bottle, "can't have you around. Hope there isn't another one." He picked it up and tossed it against the far wall. The glass shattered into pieces and fell onto the dirt floor, mixing with the first bottle. He paused, seeing the second label. "That won't do," he muttered. He picked up the second label and blew off a shard of green glass. He walked to the table and turned up the Bunsen burner. He quickly burned the two labels and blew the ash to the dirt floor.

"All right, Jim, it's time for the party. I think I'm ready now." He walked back to the desk and picked up the last muffin, settling into the chair. "And now Lori is here. That isn't the spark I was thinking of to set off the first explosion, but it will do." He grinned as he put his boots on the desk and began his midnight snack.

tbc


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8. Final Preparations

]

Lori strode across the hard, graveled yard, her eyes intent on the small stone building beyond her. Men moved around her in the distance, exchanging confused looks, but didn't approach her. She tossed her blond hair as the wind blew it across her face. She reached up to poke at loose hair pins but there was no time for securing them properly and they immediately unfastened again. Angrily, she began yanking the pins out. She held a few in her left hand and reached up toward her hair again with her right hand when she felt a strong hand on her wrist. She was wrenched backwards, spinning her around.

"Hold on, miss," a man said. He was tall and thin with dark brown eyes. His eyes looked her up and down studying the dirty red dress. He leaned closer, "just where do you think you're going, anyway?" He pulled his hat off with his free left hand and wiped the back of his sleeve across his sweating forehead.

Lori yanked her arm but the man gripped her tighter. "Hey, you came last night. What's your name?" She glared at him silently. "Well mine is Peter Harvey. You can call me Peter. We're going to be friends."

"No, you're an ass and I'll just call you shithead," she snarled, "now either remove your hand or lose it." She slammed her left fist into his temple, the hair pins cutting his skin. He yelped and jumped back, losing his grip. She pulled her arm away and turned to hurry again toward the building.

"Hey," Harvey yelled, following her, though keeping his distance now. "You can't go in there! Stop her!" He yelled again, waving to the guards. The men moved to block the door but looked confused at the approaching woman. "Keep her out!"

Lori stopped in front of one of the men in front of the heavy wooden door. "Excuse me but I need to speak with this man you're holding inside."

"Well, ah," the man mumbled. "I don't know…"

"She doesn't know what she's doing," Harvey said, standing close behind her. "She's just a guest that should be staying inside the guest house with the other guests." He leaned over her shoulder and winked at her. "Why don't we walk back and get a cold drink?" He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her backwards away from the door. Lori spun and slammed her open hand up against Harvey's nose. The man cried out in pain, his hands going to his face. Blood spurted between his fingers.

Turning again to the guards, who now stood with mouths hanging open and eyes wide with shock, "Dr. Loveless sent me out here to speak to Mr. Artemus Gordon," she announced importantly. "Now would you please open the door or should I tell the doctor that you wouldn't let me inside?" The man quickly fumbled with a ring of keys as the other guards slowly backed away. The door was opened a crack and Lori pushed through, snapping a "Thank You" over her shoulder.

The room was dim and she blinked, letting her vision clear. She started to look around the room when she heard a familiar voice, "Well, you're a sight for sore eyes."

Artie stepped out of the shadows, holding a book in one hand, and approached her, smiling and shaking his head. "That was some performance you just pulled to get in here. A mix of fabrication, swear words, and controlled violence that would make my Aunt Maud proud if only…" He stopped as Lori rushed to him. She buried her face in his chest in a burst of tears.

"What in the world," Artie said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, "where did this come from? You were just beating the Hell out of Harvey and now this. Now calm down and take a deep breath. We need to talk and I'm short of time."

Lori leaned back and took long breaths, visibly trying to calm herself. "I'm sorry," she gasped, wiping her eyes. "We do need to talk. It was just such a relief to see you after everything that's happened. Are you alright?"

Artie pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and shook it out. He handed it to her, "it's not clean but it's better than nothing." She took the piece of bright cloth and wiped her face. "Now, if you can tell me what's been happening, I'd appreciate it but only if it's an abbreviated version. We have a lot to do and I need to send for Jim soon."

Lori burst into tears again, covering her face with the cloth, "of for the love of…", he muttered, rolling his eyes. "Is it Jim? I hope he's alright because we have our work cut out for us this time. I am trying to figure out this as much as I can before he arrives. Will you stop, please?" He waited for her to wipe her face again and calm her breathing. "Now what is it?"

"It's Jim," she whispered, with her eyes closed. "We need to talk about…" She covered her eyes again but managed to control her voice, "we need to talk about Jim."

Artie stared at her for a heart-beat, his throat constricting, "Here, sit over here." He gently took her elbow and steered her to the desk chair. "What happened? Is he injured? He damn well better not be." His voice choked in his throat.

Lori sat in the chair and stared down at her hands. She took a deep breath and blurted out, "he was shot. And Steve too. When Colonel Richmond and I were taken last night." Her hands clenched the cloth. "I don't know how they are. I just don't know."

Artie sat back on the desk, thinking. "Tell me what happened, from the beginning," he said quietly. "It can't be as bad as all that. He's never let me down yet."

Lori took another breath and said, "Jim thought agents were being grabbed off the street when walking near the headquarters figured that's what happened to you and Celest on the way to the bank." Artie nodded, "Colonel Richmond volunteered to go so that Jim and Steve could catch the culprits. Jim asked me to stay with the Colonel while Christian was going to help him and Steve. He said we should not get into a carriage if one appeared. We would just wait for him. When we were stopped, we tried to wait for him but the two men on the carriage got angry. They kept telling us to get inside. Colonel Richmond was arguing, stalling for time. I turned to look up the street for Jim when one hit Richmond on the head with something. It knocked him out cold. He fell on the ground and they were putting him inside when they told me to leave. I said I wanted to go with too since he was hurt so they let me get in the carriage. I couldn't let them take him away unconscious and injured. We were on the floor of the carriage and the doors were just shut when I heard Jim's voice telling them to stop. I tried to open the door but it wouldn't move." Artie groaned but kept silent, listening intently. "Jim was yelling at them to get off the coach. He had his gun pointed up at them on the seat. I put my hand inside my purse and punched the glass in the door but it still wouldn't break. Jim must have heard me. He looked at me. But when he did, he looked away from them, and…"

Artie leaned back, sighing. "And that's when they shot him." Lori nodded.

"One man shot Jim and the other one shot Steve at the same time," she whispered, "it was all my fault. If I had just sat still and let him do his work. I drew his attention away from them."

Artie took a deep breath, "ok, listen to me, what was Jim wearing?"

Lori looked up at Artie, "what? Why in the world would you ask that?"

"Because some of Jim's outfits are bullet proof," he said slowly. "One gold colored vest is separate but the other ones are sewn inside his cloth vests. So what color was he wearing, if you noticed?"

"It was the blue with the silver threads," she said, "with the blue jacket. Is that why he wears that one so much? I thought he just liked blue."

Artie smiled, "well he does like blue, which is why the bullet proof layer is inside that vest. The other one is in the very pale blueish-grey outfit but he doesn't wear that as often." He sat back again, smiling, "I feel better knowing what happened. Was he hit with a revolver shot or a rifle? Or could you not see?"

"Shotgun," she said, "I could hear the blast. He was on his horse and flew backwards onto the ground. Steve also, though I think he was shot with a revolver. The man fired more than once but I didn't hear a lever action moving, it sounded more like a revolver. They were sitting above me but the sounds were muffled. And the coach pulled away immediately after so I didn't see if they moved." She dabbed at her eyes again.

"And Christian would have been there too," Artie said, "so if they needed to go to a doctor, she would have taken them." He nodded, "ok, well I am going to stick to my original plan." He reached a hand down to Lori's shoulder, "I know it's difficult to watch Jim get shot. I have seen him hit in the chest before. It knocks the wind out of him and sometimes even cracks a rib. But he bounces back. He'll be alright."

Lori nodded, wiping her eyes again, "I'm so glad I was able to get in here to talk with you. I didn't tell Jeremy or the other guys. Or Celeste. Poor thing is a ball of nerves."

"So you saw everyone then?" Artie grinned. "Loveless has collected a large group of us. Jeremy was about to try for a break out with everyone when Celeste and I arrived. I convinced him to wait for a few days. Let me figure out what Loveless is up to."

"Loveless?" Lori asked. "That's the weird little guy? He was surprised they had captured Richmond. He said he hadn't asked them to but the men said they recognized the Colonel from the photos he had shown them. Loveless must have had photos of the agents. Of course everyone ignores me so I just walk wherever I want. Harvey was the first person to even notice me. But Loveless seemed very angry and stressed. Do you know what he wants to do?"

"He's always angry and stressed," Artie laughed, "and he is always trying to take over the world and get revenge on Jim. Usually those two themes are twisted together. Usually with using explosives and some odd ideas that I don't think I can even describe."

"Is he using an explosive this time," Lori asked. "Is this what all these bottles are for?"

"Yes," Artie said, waving the book in his hand toward the bottles. "Chemicals, mostly solvents. He wants me to make some large volume of mixtures of chemicals. I made some to keep the peace but I'm not moving as fast as he wants. I am trying to stall too to give myself time. Last night a made a discovery that I think is what I'm looking for." Lori stepped closer as he opened the book that he had been carrying. "Dinitrophenol," he said, pointing at a page in the book. "This is a new compound that I have read about. This book was on the desk when I came in. I think Loveless is looking for something more powerful than the usual TNT." He nodded his head toward the bottles, "I snuck into his lab in the main house last night and went through his bottle collection. I found a bottle labeled with this name on it. I brought it back here and hid it. He'll never find it. But he might get a little rough looking for it. I don't want you here when he comes storming in."

"Can you make it so it can't be used?" Lori asked, quickly scanning the page.

Artie grinned, "I can make sure he can't use it but I'm certainly going to." He winked at her shocked face. "But I would like Jim to be here when I do because I'm not sure what else he has planned." He paused, "I am going to send him a message but I'm not sure how long it will take to get to him, depending on where we are."

"Where we are?" Lori said, surprised, "Don't you know? We aren't far from the headquarters building."

"What?" Artie said, completely surprised. "How do you know? Oh, wait," he paused, looking at her, "you were awake? We were all knocked out with gas fumes. Since Richmond was already knocked out, they must not have bothered with you. "

"Oh, that makes sense then," Lori said. She turned away and walked into the middle of the small room. "The carriage started down the street, down by the restaurants, beyond Headquarters. We didn't go far when we turned a sharp right and the left wheel dropped into a hole." She started to walk as she spoke. Artie watched her closely. "Then we took another right and another right and another right," she said, as she walked, making a square. "And dropped the left wheel into a hole." She walked the same square on the floor, "right…right…right…right…hole," she continued. "This went on for a long time. I kept banging into the edge of the seat when we hit the hole. It's like they were just driving in circles."

"Maybe to make sure to confuse a passenger that might have woken up or watch to see if they are being followed," Artie said. "And then what?"

"After the last time we hit the hole, "she said, "we turned a sharp left. And went straight for about ten minutes, which would have been the road parallel to the one headquarters is on." She stepped left and walked to the wall. Turning, she looked back at Artie, "I swear we are only about fifteen minutes from headquarters by carriage, maybe twenty. I could run back there on my feet."

Artie started to laugh, leaning against the desk, wiping his eyes. "Perfect. All this time I didn't even know what town we were in. And Jim has probably been riding his horse back and forth out on the street."

"I hope so," Lori whispered, her face worried again.

"Well we will know soon enough," Artie said, "I will get him word tonight, after dark."

"How," Lori asked, watching him. "You know, everyone thinks you're kidnapped and instead, you are winding everything around your fingers. Jim was about to have a heart attack."

"Jim will get me back," Artie said, "don't worry about that. So this is what I need from you…" He paused, glancing out the small window near the door. "Damn," he said, looking back at Lori and then around the room. "Here," he said, taking her elbow again. "Sit in this chair behind the desk and don't move, don't speak, don't even breath. Hopefully he won't notice you."

"Who?" Lori whispered as he pushed her down into the seat. "Him? " The door unlocked and creaked open.

"Good morning, Mister Gordon," Loveless said as he walked inside. The door was pulled shut behind him and two guards leaned against the door. "I thought I would stop in and apologize to you." He smiled but his eyes were cold and angry.

"Good morning," Artie said, smiling and giving the shorter man a formal nod. "And what would you have to apologize for?" He walked slowly across the room, making sure that the doctor kept looking at him with his back to Lori at the desk.

"I told you last night that I would find you another Toluene so that you could continue to work today," Loveless said slowly. "I swore I placed the bottle on a table but this morning the label said Pentane. Isn't that odd? Maybe I need glasses," he giggled, his eyes watching Artemus closely. "Maybe I was tired after working in my lab all day. Or maybe someone came in when I was away and switched bottles and took the Toluene away."

"Oh, now, who would do that," Artie said, trying to keep his voice friendly.

"Yes, who," Loveless said, "out of all the people in this compound, who would know the difference between Pentane and Toluene? But I suppose anyone could read a label. And another bottle is also missing. Would you like to guess what that bottle is?"

"How could I guess," Artie said, "there are so many possibilities?"

"It's something special," Loveless repeated, as he started to walk around the room. He paused at the pile of broken glass at the base of the far wall, kicking the pieces with the toe of his shoe before continuing on. He paused at the large bottles of mixed solvents. Then walked to the wall of shelving with rows of bottles. Most of the bottles were out of his reach but he appeared to be reading the labels.

"Can I get something down for you," Artemus asked innocently.

Loveless slid his gaze to the agent and noticed the book Artie was holding. "And what book are you enjoying in your leisure, if I may ask?" The doctor turned to face him, "since you aren't doing any of the tasks that I asked you to do for me?"

"Asked," Artie said, laughing. "I thought you had insisted." He held the book out, walking sideways again, still trying to keep Loveless turned away from Lori. "It's a book on rare explosive chemical mixtures. Fascinating reading." He opened it and flipped through the pages. "There are a few in here that I have never even heard of." He looked at Loveless and was annoyed at the smiling face. "A collection of very unstable mixtures."

"Dangerous in the hands of someone who has never heard of these mixtures," Loveless said, "and hasn't been performing testing in controlled conditions." He smiled again, "in fact that mixture is so unstable that it might explode in a hot building. I had it stored in a cool, dry place, not in a hot humid space." He waved his hands to his sides, "why, it may explode by the end of the day, even by just being exposed to humidity and moisture. Wouldn't that be a shame?" Artemus stared saliently, keeping his eyes on the doctor. "Another thing that would be a shame would be that one of the other agents became mysteriously ill from being locked in a hot, humid room, or maybe fed spoiled food." He laughed at Artie's alarmed look, "in face the longer we play at this hide and seek, where is the button hidden, and other childish games, the more apt that someone will be injured or taken sick." He paused, watching the agent, "I assume I am making myself clear. I want it returned to me, mister Gordon. Or bad things will start happening to your colleagues." Artie felt a chill suddenly in the hot, humid stone chamber.

Loveless turned to walk back to the door and stopped, staring in surprise at Lori sitting behind the desk. "What are you doing here?"

"Making new friends," Lori said, smiling, "Getting more business. Want some?" She raised an eyebrow at him and twirled a finger in her hair.

"Filthy woman," he muttered in disgust as he approached the door to leave. The two men guarding the door were staring at Lori. They jumped as the doctor approached. "Open," Loveless snapped. He stormed out, followed more slowly by the guards. The door was slammed shut.

Artie let out a long sigh, and began pacing. He took out his watch and checked the time. "Well at least he left you out here with me. I was sure he would have ordered you to go back with him."

"That's why I said that," she grinned, still twirling her hair. "I thought if I offended him, he would not want anything to do with me. He thinks I'm some street walking women of the night, not an agent or even a secretary."

"Young lady, this afternoon you'll learn to be a bomb expert," Artie said, putting the book on the desk. "You and I are going to make a few special ones for this evening, an after dinner fireworks show." He looked her up and down as she stood and walked closer. "Does that outfit have pockets?"

Lori snorted, "no, I don't have pockets. But us women can hide things as long as they aren't too large." She walked to the table and look at the Bunsen burner and glassware. "So where do we start? And I don't want my dress singed so no accidents, mister."

Artie chuckled as he turned on the burner, "I'll try not to have any explosions in here. It would do more than singe our clothing."

]

[

Later that night…

]

Artemus sipped his wine as he listened to Colonel Richmond and Dr. Loveless discuss delicate subjects of future inventions such as horseless carriages and wagons that could carry people through the sky. He remembered seeing models of inventions Dr. Loveless had made years ago. Ideas he had read about and concepts he had tried to develop himself.

"Of course flying is occurring now in balloons," Artie interjected. "I suppose adding a power source to propel the basket forward would make it easier to control direction. It would be safer than just floating with the wind."

"Safer," Loveless laughed, turning to Richmond, "Mr. Gordon is always discussing safety while Mr. West is always throwing caution to the wind.

"Which is why they make a good team," Richmond said quietly. "Partners' abilities complement each other, making the sum more than just two agents."

"Team concept," Loveless chuckled, "that is the concept I was trying to inhibit by separating one of each pair. I think I accomplished my task. I have slowed down the pair of West and Gordon, and the others too, I trust."

"Temporarily," Richmond admitted, "the men are their own person and can work independently or regroup effectively."

"As effectively," Loveless said, "I doubt that. I didn't mean to stop them, just slow them down. Case in point, Mr. Gordon always works with Mr. West. By separating them, Mr. West must work with another agent. He couldn't possibly know this other man's thoughts as well as Mr. Gordon's." Loveless tipped the glass in a salute to Artemus.

"We do work together," Artemus agreed, "but separately. And then connect later after fact gathering has preceded enough to make an arrest."

Loveless glared at him and then turned back to Richmond, "I am surprised that you don't insist on the pairs mixing up more often. Spending years as one team not efficient use of skills and spreading of experience and knowledge."

"The agents interact and work as groups when needed," Richmond said, "the loss of efficiency might decrease their success rates in casework. There is no replacing knowing another person's thought patterns and habits. And regrouping does decrease efficiency. Like you said, it slows their work but doesn't stop it."

"I am sure Mr. West will be joining us shortly," Artemus said, "he hates to miss a party."

"He has no idea where the party is taking place," Loveless chuckled, "but I shall send for him soon. You delay your work for me, Mr. Gordon, but I think you will quicken your pace on the morrow. I have procured a new bottle of Toluene. In fact, two bottles, in case there is another accident."

"What if there are 2 accidents," Artemus said quietly, swirling his wine in the stemmed glass.

"Don't press me, Mr. Gordon," Loveless voice was low and threatening as his brown eyes glared at the agent. He turned to smile at the two blond women sitting across the table. "But we men have been monopolizing the conversation again. I had wanted to congratulate the young lady, Celeste, in helping Antoinette in the kitchen preparing the meal." Antoinette glowed with pride as Celeste blushed and looked from Artemus to Richmond nervously. "This beef Wellington is the best I have had in years. You out do yourselves." His gaze slid to Lori, who was sitting next to Artemus. "And you disappeared today from the house and reappeared in the stone building. How did that occur, young lady?"

Lori smiled, looking over her shoulder at the guards by the closed door of the dining room, "Oh, Peter introduced himself to me and asked me to accompany him on a walk around the grounds. We had such a good time together." Harvey's face blushed red, what could be seen beneath a bandaged nose and eye. "But I became over heated in the sun and thought the stone house looked like a cool place to relax for a bit while Peter went in search of bandages. It's too bad I accidentally bumped him with my elbow. I thought his hand was a bee, you see, and I just went into such a panic. I do hate bees, don't you?"

Loveless fumed at her long-winded, obviously conjured up story, as Artie chuckled silently into his wine glass. Richmond sat back in his chair enjoying the exchange.

"At least you were accompanied," Loveless snapped out. "Kindly stay in the main house tomorrow. You will find its high ceilings and shaded windows give a cooling effect to the rooms. And don't bother the help, they have work to do."

"Oh, I will," Lori said, twirling a loose bit of hair on a finger. Her hair was back to being shining gold, piled high on her head in intricate twists. Her dress was freshly washed, as was her skin, bronzed by the sun. Celeste, next to her, looked like a porcelain doll. "I do like to walk though, especially in the mornings." She turned to Celeste and Antoinette, "don't you like to walk too? I do hate to be cooped up inside too long, unless the afternoon sun is strong."

"Too much sun isn't good for the skin," Antoinette said, agreeing, though looking confused and noticing how aggravated Loveless was becoming. Celeste sat silently between them.

"I agree about walking," Richmond said, putting his napkin down. "Especially after a heavy meal. But tonight I am afraid I will have to bid you all a good evening. I fear my head is aching again."

Artie looked at the Colonel with alarm, as did Lori. The girl spoke up quickly, "let me walk you back to the room you are staying in. I want to make sure you make it." She looked over at Harvey, "and maybe Peter would accompany us in case you need a stronger hand than mine to help you."

Loveless looked bewildered at the sudden and quick exchange between guests. He barked at the guard, "yes, Harvey, go with them and bring her back afterwards. And no dilly dallying outside in the moonlight either!"

"Sir," Harvey snapped formerly, "of course, sir." He opened the door as Lori walked out, holding Richmond's elbow. He quickly followed, shutting the door.

"And you, Mr. Gordon," Loveless said, yawning, "may also return to your shelter. I believe we will all have a long and successful day tomorrow. My dear," he said, holding a hand out to Antoinette, "let us walk this child to her room and turn in."

Artemus gave a quick glance to Celeste, "if you don't mind, doctor," he said, trying to sound casual, "I would like to walk outside for a few minutes with Miss Celeste, especially since I may not have a chance to speak to her tomorrow."

Loveless opened his mouth to interrupt but Antoinette put a reassuring hand on his knee, "Maguelito," she said softly, "the fresh night air might help her sleep."

Loveless sighed and nodded, glaring at Artemus, "keep in mind that my men will be watching you both very closely."

"I doubt we will both be climbing walls and escaping tonight," Artemus said, "especially with the agents here and Colonel Richmond now. You must have more agents here than our headquarters building in far-off Washington."

"Yes," Loveless smiled, "I do. And Washington is so very far away. All good points, Mr. Gordon. I think you understand your situation perfectly." He chuckled as he walked out of the room with Antoinette.

Artie waited for them to leave the room, thinking to himself, "_oh I understand better than you suspect_." He turned to Celeste, sitting frozen across the table. "You have barely eaten a thing tonight. How are you feeling?"

She burst into tears, "I just want to go home. I don't understand why I'm here. I know you wanted me to help but it's been days now and my parents will be so worried and …"

Artie quickly moved around the table to sit next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "There, now, everything is going to be fine. Why don't we talk outside?" He stood up and waited for her to gather her dress and stand next to him. He looked down at the dinner plate where Lori had been seated and chuckled to himself at the empty plate except for a few scattered bones. "Amazing nothing seems to bother Lori. I think dangerous situations make her eat more."

"I've never met a woman like her," Celeste said, "she told me she grew up on farm. She seems so strong for a female too. She was exercising in the room tonight. She can lift herself right off the floor by holding a door. I don't think I could do that."

"You never know what you can do until you try," Artemus said, as she took his elbow. "For instance, if I had told you a month ago that you would be working as an agent to help stop one of the most dangerous criminals in the country, you would have said I was crazy. But look at you, eating dinner, making friends with Antoinette. If you hadn't been so pleasant this week, you would have been locked in your room, but instead you are allowed to walk around freely. This is to our advantage, trust me."

The girl was listening closely as he spoke, her nerves calming down already. Artemus opened the door to the hallway and was met by two guards. "We are to accompany you both," one snapped.

"Well that's very kind of you, sir," Artie said, smiling, "we are going to walk the grounds, as we usually do every evening. You are welcome to join us. I feel like having an after dinner cigar. I have a few extras if you do are interested?"

Both men nodded, relaxing at Artie's friendly offer. The group moved downstairs and outside into the cooler air. They walked along the tree line, keeping to stone paths so Celeste's shoes didn't become soiled. When they neared an arrangement of benches, Artie paused, putting a hand inside his coat. "Would you two gents care to relax here?" He handed them each a cigar, which they eagerly grabbed. Artie and Celeste continued to walk as the guards sat on the benches, puffing away. Almost immediately, they slumped over, unconscious.

"That was nice of you to do that," Celeste said, patting Artie's arm, not noticing the guards' condition. "It seems like you are being friendlier also to the guards. Is this part of your plan? Or was it Mr. Harvey that you were tormenting?"

Artie snorted, his keen eyes observing more guards walking in the far distance. "He was being more annoying than the others," he said. "He actually acted like he wanted to help me make up the chemical mixtures. I certainly didn't need him hanging around." He nodded toward the far end of the long main building, recognizing the door that lead to the rooms where the other agents were being held. "I don't know what Lori has in store for him this evening but it won't be good. That man is already limping and is covered with bandages." He nodded between the trees toward the wall. "Celeste, I want to speak to you quickly. And I will encourage a question or two, but you and I will need to move very fast."

"What do you mean," she whispered, her eyes moving to his face.

"I mean that Lori has explained to me that we are not far from the headquarters building," he whispered, "she indicated that she was awake during her ride here, unlike everyone else. And she said if we were to go over that wall, we would be on a street that runs parallel to the street our headquarters building is on. And it would be just to the left." Celeste listened silently as they walked. "So this is what we are going to do. I am going to boost you over that wall. You will roll over the top and drop to the ground on the other side and then run as fast as you can away from this place, out into the street. Either run all the way or hail a cab. I have seen the drivers that nabbed us and they are in the compound tonight, so you don't need to worry about being picked up again."

"Wait, what?" Celeste said, starting to stare up at the walls. "You want me to climb the wall?"

"No," Artie said, steering her to the wall. "I want you to drop to your feet and run. I will do everything else with you." He turned her to him, to look into her eyes only inches away from his face. "Now when you land, what direction are you going?"

"Left," she whispered, her teeth gritting. "Left. I will run left toward headquarters. Aren't you coming too?"

"No," Artie said, "I'm staying here to wait for Jim. You will tell Jim where I am, correct?" She nodded firmly, "good girl. Now what direction will you run?"

"Left," she said, clenching her left hand. "I won't forget."

"It should look familiar to you very quickly," he reassured her, "or hail a cab. Just get away from the wall. Ok, I am going to turn you and boost you up." He looked around the trees, without trying to be obvious. Guards mingled around. He didn't see Harvey, or Lori for that matter. "Ok, go," he whispered, turning her to the wall. He quickly stepped on a downed tree limb, giving himself another foot of height. He grabbed her around the waist and pushed her above his head. Her body slid up the wall. He grabbed a shoe and pushed up again and suddenly she was gone. He heard an "ooof" as she landed and men shouting immediately after. Turning, he raised his hands as a group of guards rain toward him with guns drawn.

Jim paced the large hall, his boots echoing on the marble floor. The room seemed empty even though there were people nearby. He punched his right fist into his left palm, muttering, "dammit, Artie, send me a sign, a message, anything, damn you…"

"Jim," Steve called out from across the room. "Come look at this map. I am trying to measure the length a carriage can travel in the time they've been gone." He was sitting at a table scattered with maps on the side of the room. One leg was up on a chair with a wide bandage wrapped around his thigh. He was bent over, twisted, holding a pencil and a ruler.

"If they are still on a carriage," Jim snapped. "If they didn't get moved to a train or stuffed into a house or commercial building. If this is Loveless, he would have a plan. They would have changed transportation almost immediately."

"Well if they got on a train, they could be anywhere," Steve said, tossing the ruler down to pull at his hair. "And they could be hidden in thousands of buildings." He looked up at Jim. "Are you going out? I wish I could go with you."

"No, stay here," Jim said sternly. "One of us needs to be here anyway. I just need that telegram answer before I go." He pulled his watch out, opening it. "Marlita said she would bring it to me. I just hope she doesn't translate it to French first."

Steve chuckled, "check it before you run out." A door slammed down the hall and quick footsteps were heard. "Speak of the devil."

"James," Marlita's musical voice called from down the hallway turned his short name into a minuet. "James!" She was walking very quickly, almost out of breath, waving a piece of paper. "Your answer! I have your answer." Jim rushed to her and took the paper, his eyes scanning it. "I hope it helps, it's such a long list. It's just so upsetting."

Jim handed it back to her, "thank you. It helps, somewhat," he muttered. He turned back to the maps, turning one and picking up the pencil. "The message is what buildings have recently been rented or changed hands in the city. If Loveless recently moved in, or in the past few months, he might have signed paperwork to lease or purchase something." He was marking stars next to buildings on the map. "If we have to, we can check them all. Everyone can take a few and check them tomorrow."

"He would have used a fake name," Steve said, "and everyone would be hidden. We can knock on the front door but we will have to check basements and storage buildings too. That will take a long time, even if everyone pitches in." He looked at Marlita, "hey, the secretaries can help. They could keep the office workers busy while we check out the back."

"Yes," Marlita said, stepping forward, "I want to help. I am tired of being in the office. So is Malinda and Laura. We all want to help. Poor Colonel Richmond," she said, dabbing a kerchief at her eyes.

Jim stood up and held his hand out, "let me see that again, please," he said. Marlita handed it to him. He leaned it over and held it to the map. "That's it, Steve, that's where they are. Gotcha, you basta…"

"James!" The front door slammed behind them and another female voice shouted his name. "Help, please!" The group all turned and froze in shock. A pile of blond hair and white lace crumpled to the marble floor.

"Celeste!" Steve jumped and ran forward, his long legs out sprinting Jim, even with his limp. He dropped to his knees and slid across the stone floor, gathering the half-fainted girl into his arms. He lifted her head, smoothing the blond hair back from her pale face. "Celeste, can you hear me? It's Steve. Jim is here too."

"James," she whispered, gasping for breath. Her blue eyes opened to look up at them. "Steve. I can't believe I made it. We've been so close. All this time."

Jim picked a delicate hand and tapped the back, "ok, girl, open your eyes and tell me what happened. Have you been running? From the prison?"

Her eyes snapped open, "from the prison? Yes, how did you know? I just ran my new shoes off my feet to get here and you already knew where we were? And yet here you are, doing nothing? Leaving us there? Poor Artemus thinks you will help and you haven't helped one bit and…"

"Stop," Jim said, laughing, "calm down. I thought you were out of breath." He took her other hand and pulled her to her feet. "I just figured it out a split second ago. But why don't you reassure me that I'm correct. Where have you been?"

Celeste took a deep breath and pulled a leaf from her mouth, shaking her dirty hands. "It's a bunch of buildings surrounded by a large white stone-ish wall. I don't know what it's called. There is a large wooden double door gate to enter; a huge main building and a smaller stone building in the center; trees and paths inside between buildings." Jim looked at Steve and they both nodded. "it's just down the street! We didn't know where we were and we were just down the street this whole time!"

"Who's we," Jim said, "who else is there?"

"Artemus, of course," Jim released along breath, "and Lori and Colonel Richmond, they just arrived." Jim nodded, stepping back. "And I think Mr. Pike and all the others that have been missing." She shrugged, rubbing her hands over her arms. "Artemus said Lori figured out where we were because she was awake on the way in. And Artemus just boosted me over the wall tonight and I ran and ran. I didn't dare get in a carriage though he said it was safe. I just started running and couldn't stop." Tears welled in her eyes and Steven quickly stepped forward to wrap his arms around her, drawing her to his chest.

"You have been so brave," he whispered. "We know where to go because of you."

Jim nodded, "yes, Celeste, more than you know. Is everyone healthy? I might need to move people quickly."

Celeste wiped her eyes and looked at him, "Colonel Richmond is ok but he got hit on the head when they grabbed him. He ate dinner with us all tonight but said his head hurt so Lori walked him back to his quarters."

"Dinner," Jim asked, "you all ate dinner tougher? Who else was at this dinner party?"

"Obviously doctor Loveless and Antoinette," he said, "its so odd. He acts so pleasant and Antoinette is so sweet but Artemus tells me how evil the doctor is. I am so confused."

"It is confusing," Jim said, looking over her at Steve. "So we know where and we know its Loveless." He looked back at the girl, "do you know anything about what Loveless is doing? Did Artemus say anything?"

"Artemus kept talking about the explosive," she said, "and he is working in the stone building with chemicals making explosives for doctor Loveless."

"What?" Steve said, "he can't be."

"Don't worry about Artie," Jim snorted, "if he's making bombs, they're for himself, trust me on that one." He turned toward the table, "can you draw out quickly where buildings are? It might give me an edge when I go in tonight."

"Are you going tonight," Celeste asked, "that's good. I am worried about Artemus. After I dropped off the wall, I heard a lot of shouting. I thought,.." she whispered, looking at Jim, "I thought I heard a gunshot."

Jim took a deep breath, "ok, we won't worry about that right now. It doesn't mean he was hit, or if he was, that he was hit seriously." He turned and walked back to the table of maps. He turned a piece of paper over and picked up a pencil. He drew a line, "if this is the road that runs along the wall, and this is the wall," he said, drawing a second line, "can you draw where the buildings are?"

Celeste took the pencil and quickly drew a large rectangle, "this is the main building. Main door, dining room and bedrooms on this end, and kitchen in the middle, and this far end is where I think Jeremy is. There is a lab on the first floor. I didn't see that or where Jeremy was but Artemus told me." She drew a smaller square, "and this is a stone building in the center of the green space, where Artemus seems to work all day. Or not work. Loveless seems very upset that he isn't working fast enough or doing whatever it is he is supposed to be doing."

Jim grinned, "that's my partner. Anything else?"

Celeste stood up, "I don't think so. There are smaller buildings but I think they are just storage areas and bathroom areas for the men. There were a lot of guards around."

"How many would be a lot," Jim asked, "five, ten, twenty?"

Celeste counted on her fingers, thinking back, "maybe ten. One seemed to be the leader, his name is Peter Harvey. Lori took him away tonight. Artie thought she might injure him. He already had a broken nose from her smacking him," she said. "He seemed to find it amusing"

"That is amusing," Jim said, "good for her. She'll probably rip his arm off and beat him with it."

"So do we go now?" Steve asked eagerly. "I can go with you, right?" He hugged Celeste tighter, "though I think this little lady has had enough excitement for tonight."

"Me too, I want to help," Marlita said firmly. Jim looked at the rag tag group assembled around him. He noticed Christian had appeared, silently as usual, and was standing now behind the secretary, patiently waiting. Everyone's faces were eager to move out to save their friends.

Jim smiled at everyone, "ok," he nodded, "this is what we're going to do."


End file.
